Not
by LilPurplFlwr
Summary: College AU: Naruto has a friend. No, not even a friend. Roommate to be exact. And if they were actually friends, Naruto would have something to tell him. :Yaoi:SasuNaru:
1. Chapter 1

Not

By LilPurplFlwr

* * *

_A true friend would tell a friend, "I'm attracted to you." And that friend would honestly respond with how he or she feels. Then life would go on.(1)_

It seemed so easy. After all, it was only four words. Well, one could argue it was really _five _words, and really… five words was a lot. An "I love you," proclamation or "Will you marry me?" question was less words, three and four, respectively, and how many lifetimes were spent considering, worrying, practicing, and planning the delivery of those words?

So, really, an extra word was reason enough to be preoccupied. Preoccupied might be an understatement.

Maybe, in the end, they weren't even friends, much less 'true' friends. Roommates, yes. Acquaintances, okay. Friends?

Eh. Questionable.

"Oi."

His brows knitted as he was rudely disrupted, eyes finally straying from the textbook that stood propped on his abdomen and supported upright by his bent legs. His response was waspish at best, "What the hell do you want? I'm trying to study!"

"Huh. You idiot. Look at your pencil."

Huffing, he brought the culprit into his line of sight. Chewed. Terribly nibbled, to put it nicely. Was that wood showing through the dented yellow paint?

Right. He dropped the writing instrument (habit-formed chew toy, really) onto the white sheets on which he sat, "So?"

"Thinking really hard, I can tell."

Was that an insult? Damn straight, that--Ugh! There was no question about it. They were _not _friends. Definitely not. The guy pissed the hell out of him.

"Shut up," he had nothing else to say. There was a pause where familiar, though always annoying, silence permeated the room. Usually the second person of this conversation made it a point to not comply with his command. Of course, not _him_. He was a bastard of little words. In fact, the guy had already turned back to his computer and some chemistry paper that needed to be written.

Even getting in the last words to a conversation just was not enough lately. He should have bitten his tongue, "You're done? Is that why you spent your precious time watching me masticate my pencil?"

Any normal person would have sighed, swiveled in their chair, reassured the other, or defended their action. Maybe even laughed. Of course, not him.

"I considered going down to the dining hall."

Curiosity was sparked. The other male probably hadn't eaten for a straight four hours ever since he started working, unlike someone (okay, okay, he was referring to himself) who had inhaled a bowl of instant noodles in the dorm room just two hours into his 'study' session. _Oh, why don't you?_ was what he mentally asked. What he carefully phrased was, "You should go eat."

"I can wait."

Eyebrows rose as he stared at the back of the other's black t-shirt, it was another minute when realization hit. _OH._ He got it. "No, let's go eat," he accented his statement by slamming his book shut and swinging his legs over the side of his bed.

There was no movement from his roommate that indicated the other was going to be leaving the room anytime soon. Of course. Cajoling was always necessary. And he discovered through the quarters that the best way was stubborn, insistent verbal prodding.

"Come on, come on. Let's go. I'm hungry. Food is necessary."

Ah. There was document saving in progress. The chair scooted back. His roommate was getting to his feet. Success.

* * *

"Naruto!" A noise underlined with disgust. Combined with exasperation. Was that a glare? However, there was defeat and no argument whatsoever.

"What?" He countered with nonchalance and a roll of sky-blue eyes. It was just ketchup he dipped his French-fries in, even if it was on the other's plate. He ran out. Besides, his gift of tomatoes was accepted and consumed, though not without having to listen to a sentence about healthy eating. Honestly, there was _nothing _wrong with fast food.

His roommate was drinking hot water again. One of his not-so-apparent quirks, he learned. He never saw the guy drink anything but water or tea. It was either piping hot water in the cafeteria or some nuance of green tea in the dorm room. Really an oddball.

He preferred coffee. Strong. Or soda. Gatorade. Anything that laced energy through his blood. One would think he was high strung, but the finger should really be pointed at the other guy. Now, that guy was _tense_. Uptight. Cold. Very distant.

The guy was just not a likable person. Did he really think this guy was 'attractive'?

Maybe he had pulled one too many all-nighters.

There wasn't even a spark of charm. Sure, his roommate sported a sort-of sexy style. Sort of. Perhaps it depended on how one looked at it. Maybe upside down? How could it be described? Dark? Simple? Typical. Nothing out of the ordinary. So what the hell was it?

The urge to repeatedly hit the table using his head made itself known by forming pressure in his temples.

There was a slide of ceramic against the worn table surface.

Looking up, he beamed, looking fondly at the other, forgetting his frustration, "For me?"

His roommate exuded apathy, even when he was wiping his fork clean with his napkin before handing it to the blond, "Here."

Still grinning radiantly, he used the utensil to attack the dessert, "I _knew _there was a reason I kept you around!"

He received a scoff as the other turned his attention elsewhere to stare indistinctly at some unknown spot in the cafeteria.

Together, they sat among the noise of the dining hall. Deciding tonight was another comfortable, uneventful dinner, he stood (sat)corrected as a girl slipped before his line of sight across the opposite seat until she sat next to his roommate.

"Sasuke!" she addressed ingratiatingly to said roommate, ignoring his presence even if they lived on the same floor, "You looked like you needed a pick-me-up."

Was that coffee she was leaving by the reticent male? The blond was laughing inside. Really. And it was becoming difficult to keep the amusement under wraps.

But he really ought to repay the guy. No, actually, he really ought to save the girl from a load of hurt. So he took action.

"Hey, thanks! He doesn't drink 'that shit,' but I certainly do!" He took the cup and blew on the dark liquid lightly, taking a cautious sip. Nothing beat caffeine blasts. Cake and coffee. Life's little pleasures.

While the girl looked angry enough to burst an artery, the man's ebony orbs looked like they were pleased for the first time in a long time. Because his facial expression never seemed to change to the general unobserving public (not that he was saying he stared at the guy _that_ much), the girl took the indifference as initiative to speak her mind. Bad idea. He should have warned her.

"Is this pig your friend?" she huffed nastily.

Whoa, whoa. Pig? This was a fork and plate, not a trough. Wilbur, Babe, eat your heart out.

"Go away."

Oh, no. Words left his roommate's lips. God, Buddha, Mahatma Gandhi, save the poor (dumb) soul. Oh, whatever. He'll save her himself. Goodbye, chocolate. It was fun while it lasted.

"OH, SHIT! MY BAD." His arm shot forward.

The beautiful dark brown dessert hit the girl's pristine sweater. Hmm, aim was a bit off. Pandemonium. Just kidding. Was that convincing or what? And that slap stung!

But the vague upward curve of Sasuke's mouth never looked clearer.

* * *

**Author's notes:**

(1) Cohen, Harlan. The Naked Roommate. Page 223.

_I flipped to a random page for a one-liner to challenge myself to write a drabble. But it turned out more interesting than I thought. My first Naruto fic that looks like it's going to be a chaptered fic. I would really appreciate any feedback. Please review?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Dedication**: _This goes out to __Futago no Seishi__ because she's so amazing as a writer and person. And she so rocks my socks._

* * *

Not

By LilPurplFlwr

* * *

A friend (referring to a _real_ friend) would have taken some time to acknowledge that cherry-red imprint on his face. Deep down, he would have appreciated some words regarding the consequences he just begged to get. After all, he had challenged a woman's wrath. And damn, it had been beyond furious. He was surprised to have gotten off so lightly.

Still. He wanted something more than a fleeting smile. Half-smile. Maybe it had been a twitch. He should get his eyes checked, actually, now that he thought about it more.

Or maybe a "Fuck, Naruto," with a toothy grin to egg on his own wide smirk. Maybe an approving perusal of the damage. After all, anyone would have to admit he thought of one incredibly creative way to maneuver the situation.

Shit, who was he trying kid? Shifting awkwardly on his stomach, he pulled his pillow further down on his own blond head. He liked to think the plump thing could hide him from the world. He needed a bigger pillow.

Maybe he should stop suffocating himself. Furthermore, why did it feel like the girl had socked him? It _still _hurt.

The entire scenario had been made worse when the asshole lost his pseudo-half-smile, replacing it with his trademark pissed-off look. The guy then disappeared. Like _poof._ Okay, not exactly, but in the smoothest way possible (of course), his roommate upped and left. Female looked triumphant as she flounced off.

And he missed his dearly departed dessert.

So here he was. Nursing his wounds under his beloved pillow. The one and only thing that could ever feel his pain. If it wasn't inanimate, that is.

The doorknob was being twisted. Fuck. Another reason why he hated his roommate. The guy had a key to his room. Okay, _their _room. Next time, he decided, he would barricade himself in. He would use his roommate's desk to do it, too. Double whammy for the bastard. But too late for that now, unless he jumped out of bed, shoved the guy hard into the hall, and hauled ass.

The door closed. Locked again. He had to give his roommate brownie points for his sense of privacy. No, he took that back. He would get the brownies and, in the mean time, (maybe) like his roommate more. Appreciate. He meant appreciate. No, actually, he meant tolerate. Good word. Pat on the back.

And why was the guy just standing in the middle of the room, staring at him? Was lying on one's bed, face down, with a pillow over one's head really _that_ interesting?

Suddenly, fingers delicately crept across his back, pushing up his shirt. Before he could even react, an icy glob was freezing his now-screeching spinal cord.

"_Fucking shit---!_"

Before he knew it, he had wrenched upward, hands scrambling for what was sliding downward due to Newton's second law. His dear lover (oh beauteous pillow) got flung onto the floor. His roommate picked it up and dropped it back onto his bed. Now grasping the offending slimy perpetrator in one hand, he stopped long enough to learn he was squeezing a bag of ice in rapidly numbing fingers.

"You…" He was truly speechless, dumbly sitting in a sprawled, awkward position with the swimming ice held at eye level.

"It's for your face."

Well, that was reasonable enough. '_You knew that, right? You idiot_,' he added to himself what the other's eyes were saying, but he was able to collect himself long enough to say, "Hey, thanks…"

No reply. Did he really expect one? Always conservative with words, that guy. His roommate just turned away, dropping into the chair he left an hour ago, and finished writing his paper.

He held the ice against his cheek and, with his free hand, returned to his abandoned textbook.

Unfortunately, as proof that reading was lethally boring, he fully awoke the next morning when he felt cold wetness spread under his shoulder as he rolled onto the plastic bag full of water. Even worse was the awkward position he fell asleep in.

Great. Nothing better than waking up sore on a wet bed. Well, better water than anything else.

* * *

Life was strange. There was nothing else to be said about it. Plain and simple, flamboyant and complicated, life was just damn weird.

He didn't have enough fingers and toes to count how many times people referred to his roommate as his friend, or vice versa. They lived so monotonously with each other that if the two were actually friends, he wouldn't believe it. But they weren't friends. Were not. It was _so _obvious.

But mankind was blind. If not blind, really stupid. This grand epiphany came to him on a very typical Friday.

During a lazy post-lunch snack at a local food joint, his friend Kiba looked past his shoulder and, with a pleasantly amused expression (never a good sign), commented, "Hey, look who's lost."

After a backward glance, the blond almost fell out of his chair with shock. Page God. Something was extremely wrong with the universe, and immediate correction was necessary.

"Just a _bit._" He wondered if this was the first time his roommate had stepped foot into the establishment. Moreover, why was that guy _here _of all places?

"He just ignored you," Kiba narrated before smirking. His friend would make a good newscaster (and no, he was not getting annoyed; friends like each other, remember?) "Did something happen to ruin your golden friendship?"

"_What?_" Where was this conversation going?

"Aww, is Sasuke mad that you accidentally took his boxers or something?" The hell was the bastard smirking at!

"Are you kidding me? Like I could fit into the tiny things that guy calls boxers!" Wait, wait, that wasn't quite right. Could he make Kiba forget that bit of information he just gave? "Ugh, whatever. _T__his isn't about boxers. _What the fuck are you on, Kiba? Nothing happened! And we aren't friends!" Forget that bastard's motive for being present! There was something terribly wrong with Kiba's mindset.

Kiba neglected the majority of his spiel. Damn him! What did it take to get a good listener nowadays? "… Not friends. Right. Naruto, you fucking _share_ food at dinner."

Shit. He had to pause and consider this point. Alright, so they often _exchanged _food, but that didn't mean anything!

"That doesn't make us friends!" Denial was not the longest river in Egypt for nothing. "I'm hungry, and he has food I want to eat!"

"And vice versa." Thank you, Kiba, for being such a quick learner.

"Right!"

"… So it's agreed that you guys might as well feed each other with your forks and it'd pretty much be the same."

"Exac—_what!_" Seriously. God needed to get his ass down to gear _now_. Kiba was in dire need of a mental reset. Preferably to a sane setting.

"You are _so_ not fooling anyone, you know. Just admit it already. You're good fri—"

"Roommates." Repetition was proven to work as a learning method, right?

"… Roommates." Kiba must still be missing some essential points of his argument. Which were… in his argument. Somewhere.

"Right. And nowhere near good." Nod and give the poor boy some positive enforcement in learning the facts of life.

"… Uh huh." _Kiba. _Skepticism was not healthy for someone who struggled so much with simple facts! He was ready to conduct Beethoven's Fifth Symphony right about now on the tabletop, complete with stomping and wild gesticulation. Wait. What a familiar feeling. "Fuck, Naruto, I've never met anyone in more denia--"

"You're out of your mind."

Silence. That infernal smirk again. This couldn't mean anything good. "Unless, of course, you're in denial for an entirely different reason."

"_There is no goddamn reason. There is no friendship._"

"Oh, really?"

_Yeah, God? Get your ass down here and fix my friend. I kind of liked him before he went batshit crazy._

"You know, I bet you he's been staring at the menu for about five minutes now. I better go help him." Wild guess, but somehow, he knew it wasn't such a crazy assumption. But it's not like _that_ influenced him to get up and approach his roommate. No way. He just needed to get away from Kiba before he turned homicidal. That's all.

Will initiate conversation in T-minus twelve inches. And if Kiba snickered _once_ more, that loony was dog meat.

"Hey. Finished with class?" Not only did he already know the answer to his own question, he knew his introduction would go unanswered. It was just a convenient opener that the two of them used. Okay, more he than his roommate. The guy never made small talk; he swore that the guy was socially inept sometimes. Wait, no. He was positive that the guy was socially inept _all_ the time.

So he continued without inhibitions, "Small is good. 'Bout this big," he shaped his words by forming a visual with his hands. He knew, funny enough, how the other would react to any size medium and over. Personal experience. It would go something like this: one eyebrow would quirk, then his roommate would turn away like he could not bear looking at the massive amount of grease. Speaking of which…

"Stay away from that side of the menu." His side of the menu, of course. Great stuff. Cardiac arrest, welcome!

Dark eyes scanning over the descriptions, his roommate finally murmured thoughtfully, "The junk you eat, huh?"

A series of nods, "Right, right. The junk I ea-- _hey._" Anger transferring from batshit crazy friend to stupid roommate.

"--And that's the worst one." The asshole pointed to his favorite that was pictured.

"So _what?_" he challenged with a glare. Arms crossed defiantly. Then the other turned right around and began to walk to the exit. "_Hey!_ Where are you going?" That was rude! And how could anyone _not_ want to eat something here?

"Lost my appetite."

"What the hell?" His jaw threatened to hit the floor. He was convinced the guy needed a good shaking and maybe a smack of common sense, along with Kiba. Apparently, the entire world was going insane. "Are you _crazy_?"

"No, but I can wait until dinner." Without another word, his roommate left as quickly as he appeared without a backward glance.

Sly snicker behind him. That's it. Kiba was _dead_.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

_I hope that was enjoyable. Many hours pondering and twisting and editing like WHOA._

_Thank you so much, Futago no Seishi, because you saved me from a ton of bad writing. Thanks for all the fixes and additions and helping with the craziness._

_And please review? Feedback is much loved._


	3. Chapter 3

**Dedication: **Again, to darling Futago no Seishi, because she motivates, inspires, and amazes me. I hope I fixed this chapter up better. X3

* * *

Not

By LilPurplFlwr

* * *

He was just trying to get a drink from the vending machine. With the stiff envelope shoved in his back pocket and a cold soda cradled with an elbow, his hand dug for more loose change in his pocket, eyes roving the product he wanted so badly… well, not _really _(but sort of). He knew he could not go wrong with bland. Never. Thank God for small favors. Even if he/she/it screwed up big time with The Creation. That included men (roommate), women (rabid, predator-like girls), and caffeine (tolerance was proven to lead to addiction, after all).

Speaking of mistakes, remember that little thing called security? Well, to break the truth gently --his security was, unfortunately, false. Surreal, like bad art. He thought he was safe, but really, he was just unaware. They always attacked when he was defenseless, minding his own business. They played with him and then walked away with an _I-ate-the-canary_ sort of smile that gave him a great deal of insecurity. He completely forgot to play dead (sorry, Discovery Channel, Naruto failed you). Nevertheless, that was the opposite sex for one's knowledge.

"I'm back!" He carelessly slammed the room's door behind him with one foot. "I brought you a present."

Cue snicker behind hand if he had a free one. But since he didn't, he settled for an _I-ate-the-cat-that-ate-the-canary_ grin. He knew he pulled if off correctly when his roommate quirked an eyebrow at his face after shifting his attention away from the computer.

He thrust the glass bottle forward, waving it tantalizingly before the other's quickly narrowing eyes. The guy should know better. One's face could get stuck looking like that. A true Shakespearian tragedy! Worse than waking up with all your dead relatives.

But no worries. He had the remedy. That is, if his roommate would finish reading the label on the drink. "It's white tea! Can't you read?"

"Not if you keep shaking the damn thing." Ouch. That came fast. He swore his roommate's eye just twitched. He'd get the guy a psychologist for Christmas. Oh, but first off, the wave of gratuity for being so thoughtful. He was the _good _roommate.

"So? Happy Birthday, Merry Kwanza. Let's celebrate the end of quarter finals!" Putting down his own drink, he took his roommate's hand and wrapped it around the Snapple bottle. It would be the first loosely flavorful drink his roommate would have since the world's creation.

The guy looked like he wanted to drop it. Blasphemy! He had already taken a gulp from his Coca Cola bottle, and he wasn't going to take this insult standing up. He should sit.

"Agh. It's not going to bite. Here," he popped the cap off with a twist of his wrist. When waving the open bottle beneath the other's nose (and only secretly reveling that the other actually recoiled, even if nearly inconspicuously) failed to elicit action, he took a sip. "See? Not poisoned. Actually… "

His expression must have been a dead giveaway. His roommate gave him the infamous _I-told-you-so-you-moron_ look. He didn't care. His taste buds just committed suicide.

"… I hate it. It's boring. I can't drink this," the blond finished with a grimace, pushing the bottle back into the other's hand.

While his roommate cautiously tasted the drink, he fished the paper out of his pocket. Wrinkled, but still good. Whoa, hey. The guy was taking a second swallow. Shit. Where was his diary? Camera! Kodak moment. The hell? He needed documentation!

"Thanks." A recorder! He needed a recorder. As usual, in the end, he needed to translate his roommate's word into English, '_Why, thank you so much. I love it. You are ever so selfless, and I will forever be grateful that we share a room._'

"I have something else for you too," he held the invite out to his roommate, who paused to scrutinize the envelope before dismissing it completely by shaking his head. The guy obviously did not want it, but unwilling or not, the blond was a diligent messenger.

""I don't want it." No shit, Sherlock.

"Why the fuck not?" He was getting mad, still holding the offending piece of sacrificed tree in his hand. "You just got invited to a party by some cute sorority girl! Upsilon Alpha Sigma Sigma. YOU ASS!" The girl had been pretty, as sorority stereotypes went. Her friends had been cute. "I can't believe you!" Yes, he could. He should have just eaten the invite before entering the room if his roommate was going to be such a recluse. The guy needed to get out more often. "Take the damn thing, jerkwad!" Hey, he needed to be creative to get the upper hand on this one.

"I wouldn't go." Why tell him? Tell the poor girl who sent the invite. If his dumbass roommate couldn't tell yet, he didn't have breasts, much less a yearning to couple up for a sorority event.

"_Party._" How could he emphasize that more? "Alcohol plus girls equals _sex_!" Ah, like that. Still, an important part of him (how useful the brain was) warned him that his roommate did not care much for motion of the ocean. Who couldn't? A rhetorical question. They were young, energetic, and had dashing good looks. Well, he did, at least. His roommate? The guy managed (how? Don't ask) to pull off tall (damn him), dark (what's wrong with golden-blond hair nowadays, huh? Not good enough for the world, apparently), and I-exude-sex (which really isn't fair, because who gets stuck with the bastard all the time? Waves too, like whoa). Which, in turn, was oddly ironic because he just received a withering look of death from said roommate with his utterance of the three-letter word. Sexually frigid, no?

"Uh, okay, no girls?" Attempt to redeem self or else will be sleeping with eyes open for the next week. "Guys?" Shit, that went worse than girls… "_Rocks_? _Sasuke. _You need to get yourself checked out." The guy must be asexual. That, or really boring. Deprived. He'd have to change that. One good roommate must take care of the other one, after all.

"You brought it. I saw it. She was rejected. I'm not going." _Rejection _by disregarding? Normal people have more class. _Respect _the opposite sex, idiot roommate! Okay, okay, fine. Ever since his roommate had been near raped by about every female in their residential building, he supposed the guy had a reason to… avoid the XX-chromosome. _However! _This holed-up-in-room thing had to stop. Immediately!

There was a pause. He laid the invite on the table and scrutinized his roommate. Let the coaxing begin. "Go to one. All the houses are throwing some big thing this week. Non-stop partying." It sounded so appealing. Think of the sheer amount of alcohol getting poured down more-or-less underaged students. Huh. Why rob liquor stores for cash when you could just steal a credit card owned by a CEO of a liquor company? Billions, no doubt.

"No." His roommate never talked unless he was arguing a point, he realized. Too bad. Like he cared. Should he find a clean sock or just pick the one up from the floor to use? Hope the guy had a taste for cotton and polyester.

Strategy number two. "Let's go to one by ourselves. I'll chase all those scary little girls away from poor traumatized Sasuke." The Berlin wall needed to get cracked if it was to come down.

"Stop it." It was his roommate's special _this-is-resolution-fool_ tone of voice. He had to get the guy to _shut-up-you're-bugging-me_ but not to _you've-successfully-pissed-me-off-and-you-shall-die_.

"I'll chase off the guys too, but that's my last offer."

"_No._" Closer. Closer.

"Come on! I want to go-o-o," his voice had reached the level of whining. He knew it was obnoxious and grating. His roommate couldn't last much longer. He knew it. He could _feel _it. "You can be my drinking buddy!" Oh, this was bad. Now, the blond was getting really excited. Plan was backfiring. Badbadbad.

"That stuff tastes like shit." Damn. That was a step back. Well, continuing to press forward. Persistence was the key. How else did the snail get onto Noah's Ark?

"Sasuke-e-e-e-e." Glass shattered. Dogs went temporarily deaf. The Prime Minister in Tiajuana was telling his advisor to take away his hallucinogens. Was there something that could stop chronic twitching in one's face, because his roommate definitely needed something to settle those nerves.

"_What_?" Was that a snap? Oh. What a surprise. He should use the other's name more often, seeing as it successfully bothered the hell out of the guy. Data. He should do his paper for psychology on his roommate. A hundred pages wouldn't even cover the peculiarities. '_Sasuke Uchiha: A Neurological Study On Behavior Principles._' Or better yet, where either evolution reversed or Darwin's theory kicked into high gear.

"Please? It'll be fun, and if you like it, we can do it all the time." He paused, contemplating what could ever make the party experience more congenial for such an agoraphobic person, "Or you can go with a bunch of friends, you kno--"

"Will you shut up if I agreed?" A brusque interruption! So close… this was like pulling teeth. Slow, painful, and forceps might be necessary if he had to take drastic measures.

"Yes!" Could not grin mischievously just yet, even if his current goal was to unleash drunken Sasuke on society. The world would be taken over. _Easily_. Hitler, Bin Laden, Disney… they would offer big money for an inebriated Sasuke.

"Just you and me?" A question disguised as a statement. His roommate looked skeptical, even if the blond knew this was the sealing of a deal.

Of course, if that floated his boat, fine. It was not like the general public cared about what the two of them did together. Right. "Just you and me." Nod to emphasize affirmation.

"You can go with your friends." Sure, nice suggestion, but what fun would that be? Or, more exactly, how exciting could it be? Even with alcohol, the outing would be predictable. Or did he mean that alcohol consumption would be predictable? But aside from that, what more confirmation did his roommate need? A contract? Signed in blood? Copied at Kinko's? Bronzed on the mantel? Or did he mean to cover up a doubtful inquiry about the blond's integrity and genuine willingness? Or was he trying to sneak his way out again? Screw that! Escape from Naruto Uzumaki was impossible.

"Pfft!" Yes, when in a sticky situation--scoff. "That means you _have _to come with me." Somehow, that seemed to contradict nature through nonsensical manipulation, but who lived by the rules?

"… I suppose so."

Success, even with such a slow response (albeit, not unusual)! His roommate continued to look lost (is that the right description for such an expression?) as if some new revelation had occurred. Well, a plan to party _was _pretty new... nothing much changed aside from that.

Maybe it was something the blond said. Not that he remembered. Either way, who ever took Naruto seriously? Really. Who? Not family, not friends. And Sasuke? Yes, the roommate. Not. Not ever.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

_I hope the swing of third-person point of view, relationships, and events are coming together._

_I love (and need ) feedback. XP. Please, please review?_


	4. Chapter 4

**Dedication: **This is for Futago no Seishi's hard work, support, and love.

* * *

Not

By LilPurplFlwr

* * *

He must have had at least sixteen shots. A loud, outspoken girl had poured them all for him. Not that it mattered. But now he needed to _focus. _Focus.

Fuck. The room was wavering oddly. He wasn't stumbling, really—the floor just needed to stop moving. Wait. Actually, he was. Oh.

So where was his roommate? Sasuke. Where was that bastard? How the hell (and why the fuck) did they get separated?

Hmm, look at that. Random couple having sex on the couch. And fuck, that pretty boy lounging next to them should really move for his sake, lest he wanted to be an unwilling participant in a threesome.

Huh, wait a minute. He knew that glare from a mile away.

"Sasuke-e-e-e…" Hey, he was _not _warbling. It was just a successful tactic to get the other's attention. 'Cause Sasuke was burning daggers into the gropinggyratinggroaning mass next to him. He just wanted to spare them his wrath, you know. Yeah.

His roommate's dark eyes, having failed to combust the couple beside him, shifted and took in the blonde's swaying figure. Whoa… what? How the hell did Sasuke go from sitting to standing so quickly? That's some fast movement right there.

"Narut--"

"Hey, Sasuke!" he greeted jovially as he cut off his roommate's forward motion by ingeniously draping himself over the other. Said roommate fought from falling backward. Being slightly taller helped. Booo. Life wasn't fair. And hey, he wasn't _that_ heavy.

He wanted to say something, but he kind of forgot. Couldn't have been that important. So instead, he relaxed and hung onto the other, arms locked around tense shoulders.

"How much did you--"

The blonde pulled back from the heavy embrace long enough to stare into the other's face. It helped, being pressed up against Sasuke. What a good source of balance. Life was good.

So he pushed closer, rearranging his dizzy self against his ever-so-helpful roommate. As a result of his shifting, they wound up knocking foreheads and he grimaced vaguely. "Sasuke… Sasuke, hey, everything they got's alcohol." They were so close that they were recycling air between them.

"So I noticed." That was a dry response. He felt the other shift his head away carefully, maneuvering in such a way that he suddenly found himself in the curve of his roommate's neck and shoulder. Hmm, this was kind of nice. Sasuke had soft hair.

"Sasuke. Hey, Sasuke." He turned his head--no, he had _not _pressed his mouth against his roommate's neck (it was just in the way, okay?). "I'm really sorry. Like, really sorry. Sorry." Forgot what he was apologizing for, though.

He could have sworn his charming roommate was resisting the grimace that seemed to want to rise up on his face. He wondered if he reeked of alcohol. He probably did.

"How. Much. Alcohol. Naruto." Sasuke was speaking slowly. That was kind of nice. His voice sounded nice at that low pitch and speed, all deep and husky. This position they were in was pretty nice, too. Sasuke was just so warm and solid and sturdy, kind of like a vertical bed that holds you back.

But you know what was _really_ nice? The way Sasuke looked. He looked good; like _really_ good. That was the reason why he had knocked back so much alcohol to begin with--because, geez, it was _not_ normal to think his roommate was getting exponentially hotter. Seriously, that's just not possible. Totally.

It didn't help much, though. The alcohol. Because he swore Sasuke had never been more attractive than at this very moment, hair splayed around his cheeks and jaw set and so fucking _comfortable_. The alcohol wasn't working like it was supposed to. Weird, wasn't it?

Maybe he just hadn't had enough. Hey, that can empty? _Score._

The beer was being pulled away, just as he was bringing the can to his lips. He held on stubbornly, but it was still wrenched out of his hand, beer sloshing everywhere. Hey! What the fuck? Like, _double-you-tee-eff_, what the fuck.

"You've had way too much--"

"--It tastes like water, anyway." The most convincing argument ever. He licked his fingers sloppily and promptly lost his balance. Immediately, he fell unsteadily against Sasuke, who caught him once again and stabilized him against his own sober frame. "Honestly, it does. Like water."

There was a sigh. "Naruto… no more. I'll get you some water."

He was breathing against the other's ear. Sasuke smelled clean. So clean, he was probably edible. Would it be all right if he bit his roommate? Maybe just a lick? Fuck, wow. Where was his head?

Yeah. Definitely need more alcohol.

"Hey, Sasuke." The other had sat him on the couch, looking around the party for a source of water. "Sasuke, Sasuke, hey." He felt the gaze return to him and continued to ramble, appreciating the attention. "I'm _fine._ Come on!" If Sasuke weren't so _busy _being preoccupied (eyes kept roving _away _and it was _unfair_), the blonde would like, at least, an incredulous look (you know, that stare that intensely searches your face?). He reached out and tugged childishly on the other's dark clothes. "Ne, are you having fun? Let's dance." Dancing constituted as fun.

Sasuke was holding back a tirade about his idiocy; he just knew it—he could feel it. Strangely enough, the other simply replied, "I don't dance… and _don't move. _I'll be _right back_."

"No! Sasuke--" Protest, protest, this was goddamn protesting here!

"--**Don't move. **Naruto, I swear, if you move…" Unfinished threat. Not good, and not cool! Before he knew it, the other's dark figure melted (believe it or not, Sasuke appeared to have some crazy mad skills in weaving and disappearing) through the mass of socializing, drinking, and dancing students.

This was what dilemmas were all about. Sit here and do nothing, or… not. But Sasuke told him to. To stay put, that is. Obviously, he didn't want to do it. But, Sasuke just wanted to keep an eye on him, right? There are _much _better ways to do that.

So he got up. And tried to follow. And swayed. A lot. Whoa, shake it off. Shaking it off. Not spazzing. So not. Promise.

Suddenly, an insistent hand enslaved his wrist. Scream like murder-in-shower scream?

"Hey, cutie--dance with me?" a girl smiled winningly at him and pulled. Direction easily switched, he was lead into the crowd of dancers. No, it's okay. Life was still good. And really fuzzy.

Actually, rephrase that. Life was getting better with each passing second. He should have known that if the human race spent so much time grinding against others, there was a _very_ good reason why. And the music was pounding, strong pulses like the throbbing between his legs. And, crapshit, he was now (unfortunately) convinced.

He had to be drunk. Absolutely smashed, trashed, and whatever other synonym there was for his condition. Because while fairly acceptable girl wiggled and made his mind take a wayward, one-track dive to get off, it was All. About. GoddamnFucking. Sasuke.

So when the girl suddenly flew to one side with an indignant squawk, he wasn't complaining, finding himself face-to-face with one disturbingly composed roommate (how? HOW?). Was he mad because he moved from the couch? He just wanted to follow Sasuke. Ignore the detour by evil she-demon who kidnapped him and caused a little problem. Growing problem.

Actually, a big problem. Do _not _look down. Don't even think about it.

It didn't help that after being yanked from the throng of gyrating bodies, it was Sasuke who practically threw him against the wall. Oh, no, the guy's not mad—just violent by nature.

"Here." With one vicious twist, Sasuke broke the seal of the water bottle and pressed the offending object against the blonde's chest, "Drink it." For future reference, it was not the brightest idea to look into the other's black eyes. Smoldering. Angry, no? Room was threatening to liquefy. Or was that his common sense? He had the feeling he should be worried.

"But, Sasuke—" Talk, argue, anything to distract himself.

"**Drink. It.**" Well, fuck it. Bye sanity. Nice knowing you. Sweet gesture, but it definitely wasn't what he wanted now. Needed. Feeling was going to blow an artery.

Abruptly knocking aside the bottle that separated their bodies, he abused the element of surprise and pushed Sasuke against the wall. Not one to be helpless, his roommate had fighting instinct to escape. The end result was the same.

It wasn't _desperate_, but it was pretty damn close. Close was underestimating the situation as a whole. He had Sasuke trapped. Well pinned. He was pressing flush against the other's frame. Life was finally fulfilled and he was going to milk it for what it was worth. Threading his fingers through the silky strands, he insistently pulled Sasuke down to meet him. His mouth found the other's easily, having simply reduced the little distance between them.

He had to get closer. He was rolling his hips against Sasuke's, and the heat only heightened increasing sensations. Eyes closed, he let his mind swim in pleasure. He felt feverish. Hot. Why the hell was Sasuke so. fucking. hot. His free hand that had nailed the other to the wall was sliding down the black t-shirt, across the flat plane of the other's chest, but he wanted skin. The temperature was spiking dangerously, and all he could do was press harder against Sasuke and orally assault his roommate.

But there was something wrong. He had no sense left to understand what was happening to his body. The sudden high had plummeted to a slow timely haze, and he could barely steady himself on his feet to pull away before his senses began to shut down.

His eyes would not stay open. He was wobbling. Back. Something caught him by his waist before he went down. He must have dropped. Was he supported? He couldn't feel a thing—he was going rather numb.

"Naruto…!"

The background noise had long faded, but even his previously heavy breathing was deaf to his ears. Sasuke. He was so close, but not now. Suddenly, everything was just too far away. So distant. Blank. Everything was going blank.

But that was okay too.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

_I'm sorry about this chapter, everyone (and the crazy long wait!). I had a difficult time with it, and, as we all see, it didn't come out that well._

_Thank you for the love and support, and please, **please** review._


	5. Chapter 5

**Dedication: **To ladywolfTerri and Futago no Seishi, for their unwavering support.

* * *

Not

By LilPurplFlwr

* * *

He awoke like he would any weekend - slowly and comfortably swathed in warm blankets.

Then it hit him like an oncoming freight train. The utter heaven-splitting, ground-shattering laces of pain through his head, that is.

"Fuck, fuck… _urghh…_" Fuck, screw cursing. It just increased the suffering.

Aspirin. Morphine. Midol? Something. Anything.

And no way in hell would he risk opening his eyes. What if there was _light_? Higher-being forbid. Yes. There were advantages of pitch-blackness.

A foreign hand touched his shoulder. Roommate? One arm slid beneath his back and cradled him upright. Moaning as the stabbing in his brain intensified with the change of gravity, he collapsed blindly against the body supporting his weight. He felt so fucking awful. Fight the nausea. No fucking way was he puking on his bed. Much less on the roommate.

There was just a whisper by his ear. He grimaced at the slight noise. His heartbeat pounded in his ears. He didn't catch the words. Something about a bathroom. What a novel ideal. Really did not want to move right now. Attempts to coordinate only increased his headache.

Stop. It was no use. He needed to throw up. Immediately.

He pitched forward, and, without a second thought, puked. The rolling in his stomach did not cease. Multiple times, maybe? This was nasty.

Smooth. A cup? He didn't move. He let water tilt into his mouth. Should he swallow?

"Rinse."

He spat on command. It seemed dim. There was little light, save the glow from behind the closed curtains. Guess it was safe to open his eyes. Fuck. He felt run over. Repeatedly. What he would give to pass out. But the _pain. _

Hey. A basin of vomit on his lap. How lucky. At least he hadn't thrown up while unconscious and subsequently rolled in his bodily fluids. Life was really peachy.

Next was the long haul to the bathroom to worship the porcelain god. Thank you, Inventor of the Toilet. He proceeded to empty his stomach again. Ugh. Bullet to the head, please.

How long did he stay in the bathroom? He could hardly hold down water. And he wasn't allowed painkillers (yes, whatthefuck!). Something about his liver. Damn you, fancy science major of a roommate. That amazing intelligence and four-point-oh can go straight to—

Hold that thought. Head back in toilet bowl. So. Sick.

What a miserable day. If he didn't feel so screwed up, he would have been rather embarrassed. But for the time being, he was too busy trying to stay alive.

And to think: poor roommate. First day of break, and he was wasting the other's time.

"—ey," he rasped. Sounded coherent to him.

"What?" And the guy was still here, sitting on the bathroom floor like one would lounge during an afternoon tea party. Except for the obvious fact that _there was no damn tea_ (or party, for that fact).

"Go _home_," he croaked, wincing. Too many words. He needed water in his system. Direly. But his body was rejecting it. What a distressing situation. Should he be in the hospital for alcohol poisoning? An IV or three might help.

"No."

… Okay. Very unfair. He had no energy to argue right now. That was probably the other's game plan. SO not a turn-on.

"_Leave_." His bleary stare met calm. He doubled his efforts. "What's to do here? Study for class?" Insert mental snort. Hello? Day after finals. Nothing to do. Why spend the day (and perhaps the next) on the floor next to the miracle that is indoor plumbing?

The roommate stood up. The door closed behind him. The blond felt somewhat triumphant. Finally! He shifted. Floor was uncomfortable. And cold. The empty water bottle toppled beside him. Damn. No more water.

He refused to move. Medic. His intestines needed to be put into their proper locations again.

"Oi."

He looked up with a glare. Rats. Foiled again. What was this? Roommate Overload Day? What did it take to make this guy go away?

The guy knelt into his line of view with an open bottle. "Keep it down."

As if he wasn't trying already! Ugh.

Ancient Roommate Water Torture. This could go down in history.

* * *

He woke up very tired. Groggy and somewhat disoriented. He was the proud owner of the nice bed. Good. What time was it? It looked late. It was dark outside. Where was his roommate?

The other's bed was made. The books were straightened on the desk. The laptop was missing. The bath supplies were cleared off the counter in the bathroom (someone abused Lysol when he slept). The roommate was gone.

He must be dreaming. He was alone? Not that this was bad, per se, but seriously? Maybe he should check the silent shower. His roommate could still crawl out like the girl from The Ring. The resemblance was uncanny (amazing thing, genetics).

What was wrong here? His phone said "SUN" beneath 7:37 PM. Huh. Sun, indeed. He got to go home today for break. He smiled as he stuck his toothbrush in his mouth. Mmm. Minty freshness.

Oh, _fuck!_ He hastily spit out the toothpaste lather (almost had to call the Poison Control Center there). SUN? As in, _SUNday?_ Today should be SATurday. Friday was the last day of finals. Saturday was the next logical day! He had this memorized since preschool!

Was this a government conspiracy?

He ran out into the hall. Was everyone gone? His roommate was obviously gone. They were going to leave on Saturday. _Saturday! __Was it really Sunday?_ Someone tell him it was not Sunday.

"Nice boxers, Uzumaki."

_A living person!_ Oh. Well… Gaara certainly wasn't the _liveliest_, but his friend still counted.

"What day is it?" No need to look down. Everyone wanted his Ramen Is Life © boxers. Whoa, hey. He still had toothpaste in his mouth.

"Sunday." Looking amused, the redhead shifted to avoid a bag that was shoved out of his older sister's room.

"No way…" He mouthed, more to himself. Sundays do _not_ follow Fridays. It was written in every published children's book and the Constitution.

"Party too hard?"

"Huh?" He frowned. There was a big gap in memory lane. It ached to think about it.

"Your roommate is driving you back, right?"

Amazing. There was a reason why he liked Gaara. That's right. He had a thing for people with psychic abilities. No, actually, it was the other's mastered art of jumping from subject to subject with no transitions whatsoever.

And his roommate was his roommate. His roommate who had a gorgeous car that would have taken him home. Should he worry about getting a ride or his newfound retrograde amnesia?

"He left." Okay! Gaara's scowl was a _little_ scary! Permission to hide in the corner and tremble, sir… "I told him to! So… he did, I guess." He squirmed. It was hard to believe that his roommate had actually listened to him.

He jumped as he heard the plastic card slide into the lock behind him. Great. First conspiracies, and now hallucinations. Maybe he had slept with fungi.

"You locked yourself out… and without clothes." His roommate pushed open the door. The lights were flipped on. "Your ability to plan ahead never ceases to impress me."

He turned to see his roommate leaning against the wood to keep the door open. Looking good. Great to see you too. Oh, this was real? "_Hey! _Where did you go?!" He glared, not caring if he kept the Ruler of Superior Complexes waiting.

"Hurry up and get in."

The blond turned and grinned back at Gaara, who, granted, sported a strange expression. "Guess my ride's still this prick. See you after break!"

He skirted through the doorway and his roommate finally stepped away and let the door close behind them.

"That better be toothpaste trailing down your chin."

"What else would it be, genius?"

* * *

The surprises never end.

His roommate had succumbed to his masterful technique (one of many)—professional manhandling. Ignore the fact that it was the _roommate _who had gone to the supermarket and _bought _the goods. He still won. He was on top of the world. He could start a facebook group: I Molested My Roommate So I Could Jack His Food.

Actually, he just pawed through the plastic bag and announced possession of its contents. Which was instant ramen. The I-give-you-a-whole-day's-worth-of-sodium-in-three-minutes-flat processed goodness.

They left the university late into the night after he ate and packed. He was stopped after two cups (stingy bastard!). Then again, the guy had a car to protect. He got to hoard the extras in his desk though. They were under lock and key from any dorm burglars (his roommate got a scarf stolen before so he was taking _no _chances).

The car ride was smooth and comfortable, which was nothing out of the ordinary. His roommate was very attuned to his sleek vehicle. They matched. In sexiness. As if they were Victoria's (Even Bigger) Secret.

He jerked out of dozing. He hadn't realized he knocked out. By the looks of the commercial buildings along the freeway, they had about twenty more minutes on the road. He turned to the quiet driver. Curiosity killed the cat, but Curious George got his own series, so what the hell.

"Hey, did you have fun at the party?"

He caught a quick sidelong glance from his roommate (a good driver does not take his eyes off the road, quotes the Driver's Manual). There was a long pause. "… It was fine."

The guy was impossible. A yes-or-no question got a nonchalant 'fine' answer. What was wrong with this picture? "Seriously! I really wanted you to have fun." He did. Like a good roommate would care about the other's feelings. Something like that.

"Did _you_ have fun?"

He had to swallow his habitual retort of '_Answer me!' _by shutting his mouth. He hadn't expected the question returned. He always had fun, given if he remembered, whereas resided the problem. "U-uh… " He really could not lie. "I… don't remember anything after… uh… maybe the eighth shot."

"… Figures."

His ears picked up a tired sigh. Oh, no. He wracked his blank mind for some explanation. Feeling incredibly guilty, he gave up and shrunk in his seat. "I got too drunk to keep the girls off you, huh?" He bit his bottom lip. "I'm sorry. You can get mad."

"I was fine," the other replied simply. He was not reassured. His roommate frowned into the distance at the few pairs of red taillights ahead of him. "You…"

Hearing the other's uncertainty was horribly unsettling. The blond fidgeted in his seat. He pulled at the seatbelt across his lap. "I… " His mind raced. Why was his roommate at a loss of words? He couldn't have done anything _that _horrible. Ran around naked? Peed in an elevator? Had unprotected group sex? Okay, that was just unsanitary! The images! "_Oh my god! What happened? What did I do? Tell me there wasn't sex!"_

"—Agh. Naruto. Shut up. Calm down." His roommate took one hand off the steering wheel to rub his ear. "You were beyond drunk. That's all."

Somehow that didn't really help his nerves. "Was I _okay_?"

"You were fine." His roommate glanced behind his shoulder and changed lanes to exit the freeway. The streetlamp briefly illuminated the other's face. It was blank.

He panicked. Familiar streets flashed by his wide eyes. What did he _do? _What _could _he have done? He was guaranteed safe with his roommate, right? What could he do wrong with _Sasuke_? The question worsened his anxiety.

"Sasuke." He mentally winced. The other's name almost tripped on his tongue. Anyone could have heard it. "Be honest."

If the driver was surprised, the guy did not show it. His roommate simply braked to check the sign. The car turned into the blond's street.

"Then, _honestly_, you were fine," the other repeated. "Stop worrying. You drank, danced, passed out, and threw up for twenty-four hours the next day." Gears were switched to parking. "You're home. Have a good break."

Too many words at once. His head was spinning. Nothing sounded fatal in the list of things he had done, which was a plus. He shook his head. His hand drifted to the handle of the door. One pull and he had was out. "That was very suspicious."

"No." His roommate smirked and folded his arms over the steering wheel, "Anyone would vomit that much after all that alcohol."

The blond grimaced and opened the car door, swinging his legs out. There was no getting information out of this guy. Maybe there were no dirty details, which was his advantage. He should just drop it. "You piss me off."

"I can still run you over," the other threatened, black eyes narrowing.

"But…" He swallowed. He would give anything to make this less awkward. He could always _not _admit it, but he had to be honest (hypocrisy was bad). He might as well do it right. "… Thanks. For…" He needed to regroup. He took a deep breath. "You know... I'm glad… you're my roommate."

Said roommate inclined his head, a smile gracing his lips. "And the party was certainly interesting."

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

_Style-switching pwned me. Drunk to hung over to post-hung-over (O.o ) to freakage... I don't fancy trying again, but revision might be needed. Hopefully, no spoons are in arm's reach!_

_I beg for your comments. Opinions, advise, and feedback are loved. Please review! Thank you!_


	6. Chapter 6

**Dedication: **To Futago no Seishi, because she has crazy skills in editing and coding, and I WORHIP HER.

**Author's Notes: **Not has been, and always will be, in the point of view of Naruto, even as third person.

* * *

Not

By LilPurplFlwr

* * *

_**From: **__"me" -- n.uzumaki(a)…_

_**To: **__"bastard roommate" -- s.uchiha(a)u…_

_**Subject: **__Housing_

_**Text:**_

_Hey,_

_My friends and I want an on-campus suite next year so we can live together (like an apartment but minus the cooking and utility bills). Do you want to room with me again?_

_Naruto_

_P.S. I proofread for spelling and punctuation just for you. THANK ME._

_**Send Message.**_

He finally managed to pop the question, and it only took him a month and a week of separation to get the nerve up.

* * *

It was break, and for the hard-working student, break was the next best thing to sleep. Actually, they were synonymous. Kind of like '_Sasuke Uchiha'_ and '_Bone Me'._ Good metaphor, right?

But surprise, surprise. His current world was not perfect. Break was sucking balls.

He had the right to ten hours of sleep, give or take two, per night (come on, it _was_ break). Add his caffeine addiction to the equation, and not only was he now nocturnal, but he was also as wired as the nation's leading telephone network. To say that he was suddenly having trouble falling asleep would only be the understatement of the century. Apparently, it _was _possible to get _too _much sleep — and now his body was on strike.

But, oh no, it didn't stop there. He was having dreams that revolved around one theme. Day after day. Having recurring dreams was _not even _the issue any longer. You see, he'd had many previously in which he was always arguing with his roommate – heck, half the time, he never realized he was dreaming.

However, he was waking up in drool (_tell and die_), and it was awkward and uncomfortable(-ly wet). Plus, it was _not _normal to _drool _when dreaming about your roommate for it lacked food and/or extremely hot girls in steamy situations. This was a given, like Newton's law of gravity. Of course, pay no heed to anything the physicist said about two bodies attracting or whatnot. Physics was a load of bullshit.

And so were those dreams.

He kissed his roommate in the first dream. He was so freaked out by his own dream that he didn't even think of dreaming up reciprocation. He fell off his bed that morning, slightly strangled by blankets. However, he learned to swallow the dread of rejection by the third dream. He had fond appreciation for how real the dream felt (and the details were steamy enough to rival porn). Maybe his repressed fetish was long make-out sessions with a pinned Sasuke. Oh, no. What if it was _anything _with a pinned Sasuke? That would be bad. Pressing helpless roommates up against walls while tearing clothes off was bad, right?

He was a pervert _and _a closet novice in S&M? Fuck.

It was getting painfully obvious that he had a thing for his roommate. He used to think these thoughts were just temporary lapses of sanity, but it had been months now and his sense of judgment was still missing in action. Denial was a nice escape – while it lasted that is. There was no Plan B, and he was already in the midst of Plan P(anic!).

Ignoring the attraction (not obsession) was no walk in the park. Holding down urges really hurt like hell, you know. If he lost control, he would end up writing Kama Sutra II: The Extra Exotic Version. By physical experience.

Imagine if they were actually friends. It would be icing on the Cake of Utmost Doom. By the Narutic philosophy, true friends do not hide secrets from each other. Open communication and shit. He would put his hands on his roommate's shoulders, look the guy straight in the eyes, and truthfully say, "I hope you like boys." But this would happen only after all pigs were given Red Bull.

As menacing as his roommate could be, Sasuke did not seem to be the type that would flip out and level Tokyo just because of a little confession. Sure, the guy might murder him during broad daylight (just _that _good), but the general public would be unharmed.

And in the end, there was only the roommate. His roommate. Fucking gorgeous Sasuke Uchiha with his strong jaw, soft mouth, and dark eyes.

But right now, he would sell his soul for some sleeping pills.

* * *

_**From: **__Sasuke Uchiha -- s.uchiha(a)u…_

_**To: **__Naruto Uzumaki -- __n.uzumaki(a)…_

_**Subject: **__Re: Housing_

_**Text:**_

_Naruto,_

_I read that it's not the best idea to room with friends. This may be hard to believe because we room together just fine, but we were not previously friends. Although they are your friends, under living conditions, they can disrespect our privacy and belongings. Think about it, but we'll be roommates again._

_Sasuke_

_P.S. You are truly the biggest idiot I know._

* * *

He had expected a yes-or-no answer. '_Why, yes, Naruto, I would love to room with you again_,' or '_Fuck no, Naruto, I hate you and will kill myself if I have to put up with you for another year.'_

Maybe he was irritated due to restless sleep or unfulfilled dream action, but he was pissed that he couldn't quite understand the email. Even though he appeared to read his roommate well, he was not absolutely fluent in Sasuke-nese.

The only thing he learned was that the bastard was paranoid, pessimistic, and obsessed with privacy. But wait, he already knew that! This was just incriminating evidence. His friends were really cool! They would be great suitemates. Probably. Then again, he hadn't really thought about it. Sure, they could be kind of lazy, messy, crude, weird…

Okay, there was no way that he would admit Sasuke was even a _little _correct. Even then, this reasoning was… completely irrational!

Previous friends are different from… not previous friends? Say what? Fewer words obviously did not simplify complicated concepts. He was utterly confused as to what that bastard meant. So they were… not previously friends?

**FUCK.**

No, no, no-no-no! He reread the message for the sixth time. _Were not previously friends._ Implying that… they were currently friends? They were **friends**? _NO._ Hell, no! He refused!

He wanted to shake the computer screen. Maybe the 8-ball would give him another fortune. No, this couldn't be right. They were roommates. His roommate said it! They would be roommates again. This was not happening!

He felt like he overdosed on caffeine, and his insides were going to seize up, complete with chills, jitters, and aches. What was he supposed to do? Maybe he just needed to talk to someone. He grabbed his cell phone. Who _could _he call? What would he say? Maybe he should concentrate on housing. That was a safe issue. He should call Shikamaru and get some details. He tapped a stray pen in thirty-second beats to the phone rings.

"_Yeah?_"

"Shikamaru! Help me! He thinks we're going to bother him! He's so stupid, but we're rooming together again. I can't back out, 'cause I asked him to, you know, but then I can't room with you guys, and I really want to! _What should I do_?" He inhaled only twice, but he trusted his friend to understand every word of his spiel.

There was a long sigh on the other line. "_Whom and what are you talking about?_" Okay, all the trust in the world was just lost.

"_Sasuke. _You know! My roommate! And I'm talking about housing for next year, remember?" He paced around his room, not that his friend could see him, but just to move around. "I can't believe you forgot! Stop being all lazy and apathetic and help me!"

"_You never mentioned your roommate's name to me,_" Shikamaru explained, sounding much like he was half-asleep, despite the fact that is was the middle of the afternoon. "_Well, if that's your problem, just tell Kiba that you're going to room with your current roommate._"

"I don't think he'll get along with anyone! He kind of hates people! He doesn't even like me! I don't know what he's thinking, agreeing to room together again next year. You know, if anyone steps into our room, he might take out a katana and decapitate the poor innocent person. If there's something annoying him—and trust me, that happens a lot—he'll probably poison everyone! He has access to chemicals from research, you know!"

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Ranting really wore him out.

After about ten seconds of silence, he feared Shikamaru had fallen asleep on him, until his friend simply stated, "_You can assure him that we'll respect his rules."_

He froze and dropped back onto his seat in front of the computer. "That's _it_?" His mind raced. How effective could that be? How was that going to solve _anything? _

"—_That's it. Be sure to mark the correct room number on the housing form._"

Why did Shikamaru keep reminding him of unimportant details? "One more thing!" He felt his friend was seconds from hanging up (good friend, just lazy). "What if that's not good enough?"

"_You're friends. Persuade him your own way."_

"But we're not… we're… he's… kind of hard to persuade!" He mentally beat his head on the desk. So much for a debatable argument. He couldn't even verbally deny it.

"_Well, don't cause too much trouble."_

He hung up shortly after, feeling much compelled to smack his head on a hard surface a couple of times. He had to stop though. He needed what was left of his brain to craft a brilliant return email that would be free of suspicion.

* * *

_**From: **__"me" -- n.uzumaki(a)…_

_**To: **__"bastard roommate" -- s.uchiha(a)u…_

_**Subject: **__Re: Re: Housing_

_**Text:**_

_You're the craziest person I know. Where does your paranoia come from? Don't worry about them. Shikamaru says everyone is going to respect your rules, and he's really smart. Besides, if you're really bothered, I'll protect you and kick some ass! It'll be fun (you need some fun), so don't worry. If it makes you feel better, we can soundproof and bolt our room. Oh, and please don't poison my friends. I kind of like them._

_**Send Message.**_

Maybe he should have mentioned that he wasn't too fond of dying either.

* * *

He must be a masochist. In a way, he was kind of grateful that they were going back to the university. School wasn't half bad, minus the classes and the studying and the stress. Besides, he slept so easily during school (thank you all-nighters!).

Of course, it helped that he could act like nothing was wrong in the world. He had absolutely nonexistent issues with the roommate. Nice day, wasn't it? Nothing a thunderstorm and little late-night smothering-by-pillows couldn't solve.

"Hey." He didn't know if it was safe to have a discussion while the other drove (studies show that conversations, not just cell phones, cause car accidents), but he did it often and his roommate had yet to cause a red alert. "Sasuke." He tried again and was finally acknowledged by a monosyllabic murmur. Amazing communication skills, that guy.

"… Did you forget something?" the other suddenly asked, eyes darting quickly to search his facial expression for guilt. "Wallet, keys, contacts?"

"No, I didn't forget," he frowned, though simultaneously checking off what his roommate had listed by habit. He figured he should just rip off the band-aid and dive right into questioning, "You know how we're fr—"

"Whoa!" The car braked abruptly, and the driver's right arm shot in front of him. Another car narrowly cut before them into the carpool lane in the midst of traffic.

"_Urk_!" The seatbelt tightened abruptly across his torso, ending his sentence. So much for accident prevention. So much for conversation.

His roommate glared fiercely at the car before them, "Naruto, are you okay?" His roommate replaced his arm on the wheel and cautiously guided the car forward while keeping a generous distance between the two vehicles.

"I'm good," he nodded, knowing Sasuke would check by peripheral vision for visual reassurance. Though the incident was unusual with his roommate's conservative driving, the mishap was technically small. He, however, was struck with an awful, _fond _feeling. It wasn't every day that his welfare was looked out for, especially by his aloof roommate… friend… personthing.

"Good. Get the gun out of the glove compartment for me."

"_What?_" A joke, right? No, remember, his roommate lacked a personality, and obviously, that type of person made very _literal _statements. But, since he had the choice, he would rather be a living accomplice than a dead witness.

"I was kidding, you idiot," Sasuke looked scarily amused, though his roommate continued to eye the car in front of them with a look that envisioned instantaneous combustion. "I didn't ask you to shoot."

"Very funny," he huffed, crossing his arms. Sure, gain a personality when it was absolutely not necessary. Really. If they were hit, there would have been a seven-car-pileup, complete with fire, explosions, and crying babies. "Why do girls like you so much? You're just awful."

His roommate sighed, now looking rather unhappy (must be post-accident-depression), "Stupidity. Some like loud idiots, too. You'll be fine," but with some afterthought, the last sentence trailed off indeterminably. "Although a bunch of Uzumaki babies would be frightening…"

He could be stupid, but he wasn't stupid enough to rise to the bait of another pointless argument. "No, seriously. All these girls really like you. Anyone would date you in a heartbeat."

He saw the other's eyebrow lift. "Are you writing your dissertation on this theory?"

They were having an important discussion for once, and the bastard couldn't even be serious. Real mature. "How come you don't have a girlfriend? Don't you like anyone?"

There was silence, and he started to think that he had really gone too far. He must have offended or embarrassed or just pissed off his roommate.

"They think they like me," his roommate finally replied, looking rather displeased with the topic, "But I don't like them." And if that wasn't already clearly apparent, Sasuke's tone was really sending a shudder down his spine.

"Uh…" he sunk lower into his seat. He wasn't cowering. Sasuke was just looking a little threatening. "All this time… no one?" He was probably going to be ignored and victimized for the rest of the year now. Redemption—he really needed redemption. He didn't have enough money to run away to an isolated tropical island. "I mean, people keep telling me that I'll find someone in college and… stuff…" He should really shut up now.

"Then worry about yourself," the roommate suggested briefly, features relaxing into an all-too-familiar impassive expression.

The ride back to the university was deathly quiet.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

_Fanfiction(dot)net hates my (actually darling Futago no Seishi's) coding, even with proper entity codes, thus you see a strange representation of their university email addresses. _

_Please review? Feedback is very much appreciated._


	7. Chapter 7

**Dedication: **_Futago no Seishi__ for her super-efficient editing under the duress of no sleep and a mountain range of schoolwork._

**Author's Notes: **_I apologize for the long wait. I scrapped the first draft and completely rewrote the chapter. Then got stuck. But that only makes the next chapter easier to write. There is hope in the horizon!_

* * *

Not

By LilPurplFlwr

* * *

He was pretty sure his roommate was not happy. Not that being unhappy was cause for concern (or was it?). Hell, it was basically his roommate's trademark. However, the crisis here was that his roommate was unhappy with _him._

It was bothering him to no end. Even worse, he knew that Sasuke could not be easily appeased. How could he say I'm-sorry-forgive-me-for-asking without actually saying it? Since food offerings were out of the question, he was starting to consider sacrificial rituals instead. Problem was, he didn't know how to get an altar with some flammable item that Sasuke would actually like, since his roommate never expressed delight in farm animals and island virgins.

Forgiveness probably couldn't be bought, but he wanted to try. So he found himself wandering the student store like he was lost. He believed himself to be a thoughtful person, but he was drawing a blank. A really big one.

He had to be practical. What was really useful to a college guy? Laundry detergent. Maybe that was _too _practical. How about school supplies? Nothing says sincerity like a hundred and fifty pages of recycled, eco-friendly, college-ruled paper.

"Need help, Naruto?"

Busted! But no worries. It couldn't be his roommate. Currently, that guy wasn't even responding to him, much less initiating conversation. He turned and blinked twice. This was odd. "Oh, wow. Neji. Hi." He figured Neji was too cool to be working at all. "…Uh, _why _are you working here?"

The other's mouth curved upward slightly, a very familiar expression. Neji was probably the record holder for giving the most self-complacent smiles known to mankind. Not that it was bad—it actually looked very good. "It keeps me alert to student issues."

Damn. For real? Neji was so on top of things. The guy was hailed as the epitome of a college student—did everything and down to a fine art too, from student government to sports to tutoring. Only thing missing was running a prostitution ring, but he wouldn't put it past this guy.

"That's… productive." Boy, he didn't realize he lacked a broad vocabulary until now. Maybe he should start reading. Maybe he should change the subject before Neji noticed how one sentence left him dumbfounded. "Hey, so I kind of pissed off someone. Think you can help me find something so I don't get stabbed in the shower?"

There was that pleasant feeling of accomplishment when the other actually chuckled. Shit. No wonder Neji was so popular. Was there _anything_ unpleasant with this guy? "Your roommate again? I thought you would have changed rooms already."

Where the hell did that come from? How could anyone be that right? That level of deducing ability wasn't normal! Maybe Neji was an alien. "_I _wouldn't move. I like my room."

Neji casually pushed away some loose strands that escaped the hair tie. That was the best hair he had ever seen. Think of all the conditioning and anti-frizz control. "That's good. So what does he like?"

Good question. Maybe studying, but no one likes that. Being mad at him? Ah, but no one likes that either. After short consideration, he offered, "Nothing?" He was so clever.

"Apparently. Get him something he needs?"

Oh, that was an easy one! "Like a good lay? How do I get him _that?_"

There was a long pause. Neji had on the strangest expression. He couldn't even describe it. "Naruto."

"What…?" Was it something he said?

"Tell your roommate that he has my respect."

* * *

He was never going shopping again. Unless it was a life or death matter, such as there being nothing edible or clean left. With a long sigh, he unlocked and pushed open his door. Envision the soft mattress. He was tired to the point of skipping dinner. It was that serious.

"—more tea?"

Huh? That was the first time he had heard his roommate speak in… too long. A visitor? Couldn't be. No one ever stayed in their room for more than five minutes (and that was just hovering around the doorway). Was that even Sasuke talking? The tone was out of whack. Maybe his roommate was making a phone call. He inched inside--caution was imperative.

"Welcome back, Naruto."

He almost dropped his plastic-wrapped (very inconspicuous, honest!) package. He stopped dead in his tracks. His roommate was staring at him. Something was definitely wrong. Not only was his return acknowledged, it had gotten him a smile. He had been ignored for several days now. He knew that fake smile anywhere. The one that doesn't reach the eyes. Currently reserved just for him.

"Hi, Naruto!"

Wait. He knew _that _voice. It was like very warm soup on a day when water vapor froze. Or, to be exact, it was "_Hinata!_" in the same room as a displeased roommate. Wonder if she noticed. Then it hit. Why she was here. She sat on his bed, hands in lap, knees together, ankles crossed. Her spiral notebook and physiology text were placed next to her. Shit. "_Crap._ I forgot!"

She giggled. She had a good laugh. One of those laughs that sounded really genuine. Only this wasn't a time to be laughing. "And left without your phone," she added, conveniently informing him of how he escaped the call of midterm study.

"Sorry, I…" A quick glance told him that his roommate's stare was going to burn through his temples. But still looking congenial to the untrained eye. Note to self: Complain to government about schools not teaching methods to diffuse situations like this.

He crossed the room to sit next to Hinata. She shifted on the bed to face him. "Well, you see…" he lowered his voice, but realized he misjudged the distance and leaned toward her ear. Little girls had taught him how to whisper conspiratorially. "Now isn't a good time… uh…" He pulled away. "I can't study today."

"I see." She smiled and gathered her things. She knew something was amiss. "Call me later if you can."

He really liked Hinata. If he roomed with _her, _his life wouldn't be so stressful. "Thanks." As she left, he had a feeling he would be calling her in a panic tomorrow night. Last-minute cramming for the physiology midterm.

But for the matter at hand, he was ready to kick some ass. And he was going to be very firm about it. "Hey." His roommate looked extraordinarily busy at his desk. Oh. It was math. With a lot of exes, whys, zees, and apostrophes. That explained it. "I need to talk to you." No answer. Talk about being in the zone. "Sasuke." With a quick snatch, he rescued the other's pencil from overheating on the paper.

"What. Are you doing." Oh, god, Sasuke sounded deadly. His roommate was going to tell the police that he ran into the knife himself. Ran into it ten times. Should he give up? NO. Of course not.

"Talk to me." Pause. "Please."

"Look." The earphones came off. Oh. He missed that little detail. "Unlike you, I don't—"

"—I'm sorry, okay?" He was tired of that dark look. Really tired. Screw dignity. Who needs it anyway? "I won't ask you about getting girlfriends or that stuff again, so stop acting… like that!"

"… What?" He finally managed to elicit a difference in tone from his roommate. Actually, that sudden semi-open gaze of Sasuke's might be the first he had ever seen.

Though there was a change in expression, he felt doubtful that he was actually going to be forgiven. "I said I'm sorry." Now could they go back to normalcy? He studied the other's face. Did he succeed or not? Damn these pauses.

"Pencil." His roommate stretched out a palm. "Now."

He blinked. What the hell? Wordless, he handed it over. He watched the other turn away to fix the jagged graphite scribble. He wanted to explode. "_Why are you still mad at me?!_" Okay. He did. A little.

There was a sigh. It sounded like exasperation. "Naruto, you are…" The other stopped in mid-sentence. Running a hand through his hair, Sasuke finally stated, "I'm not 'mad at you.'" The neutrality was too typical. First he was ignored. Now he was being lied to. What an insufferable bastard!

"Yes, you are!" He could tell. Anyone could tell. "What do you want me to do?" Beg? Didn't he already do that? He would do just about anything, but he wasn't going to put it in writing.

His roommate leaned back in his chair. Head back, eyes closed. Holy fuck. Sasuke's temporary slouch was like a normal person's arch. Halfway. His roommate all of a sudden looked tired, and since it wasn't from shopping, it must be his fault. Again. Why was guilt such a damn mobius strip? "Sasuke, seriously. I'm _really _sor—"

"Okay. I get it." Sasuke sat up. Mood swing, much? His roommate faced him with utmost business. "You want us to be even?"

Whoa. Unexpected cooperation. "Yes." A serious question deserved an honest answer. Plus a nod.

"Is that the girl you like?"

* * *

**Author's Notes: **

_Comments and feedback are very appreciated! Thank you!_


	8. Chapter 8

**Dedication: **For Futago no Seishi, who is a role model for small children everywhere. Everyone should grow up to be able to edit bad writing while going on forty-some hours without sleep.

* * *

Not

By LilPurplFlwr

* * *

Like _who? _Wait, sorry, _what?_ He felt like a deer blindsided by a car's headlights. Fuck, his pupils probably noticeably dilated.

"U-ah…" He was trying his hardest not to sound like his brain had short-circuited. "That gir- Hinata? I…" Wow. He botched that one.

Why would he like a _girl_? Actually, that was a rhetorical question. Boys liked girls, dominant genes carried to the next generation, and the earth kept revolving. Permission to rephrase question, please.

Why would Sasuke ask him _that? _He practically gift-wrapped a Get Out of Jail Free card for his roommate, and the guy goes on to ask him about something so… wrong. The guy completely missed the mark. His roommate never missed. Ever.

His roommate decided to summarize his rambling for him. "You like her." Wrong again. He was being accused with false and vindictive evidence. Even if it wasn't meant to be taken as such, he felt it anyway.

"N-no," he shook his head, and suddenly paused. For a second, he wondered if his life would be easier if he agreed. Agreed and backed out of the room to run after his study-buddy, ask her to go out with him, marry her after graduation, and have two kids and a golden retriever. Forget about his insane attraction to his roommate.

The guy didn't even try to look convinced. "You don't have to lie."

"I don't—I'm not lying—like her." He meant it. Who was lying?! This was one time that he was telling the utter truth!

As if to save him from further embarrassment, Sasuke added rather matter-of-factly, "She's… very pretty." As if he was in denial because his roommate disapproved of his choice of a crush.

He scowled in response. "Really. I don't." He decided he didn't like this type of stupidity from Sasuke. It didn't fit. He knew it was childish, but if it would stop the flow of this discussion, he would take the risk of another fight. "Why do you think I like someone?"

The fast-paced conversation skirted to a stop as if confused. His roommate seemed unprepared for the question. There was an inconspicuous shift in manner. He felt a piece slide into place. That bastard must have scripted their entire conversation. Enough to keep him on defense.

"She likes you too."

Ignored. He was going to ignore everything that came out of his roommate's mouth from this point on. He was onto his roommate. That sneak. This wasn't about Hinata. This probably wasn't even about how he had breached his roommate's personal borders. What exactly it was about, he still wasn't sure, but it had to do with him. Liking people.

Was this a Sasuke-version of a middle-school gossip session? How could he tell?

"You think so?" He stepped away from his roommate's desk area and searched for his purchase. He could use it. Not for bodily injury, maybe as a peace offering, but definitely to bribe his roommate into admitting some information. Seeing as Sasuke had planned nearly an entire dialogue, he knew it had to be good. "Hey, I got you a present, since you were so mad at me."

Sasuke's guard was back up. While handing over the package, he received a wary look from his roommate, which he easily brushed off. "I was not 'mad at you,' Naruto."

"Uh-huh. Open it so I can stop feeling bad."

Rather reluctantly, his roommate unfolded the plastic bag. Pieces rattled in the plastic container. Even though he was on a mission for information, the blond felt proud for picking out the present. Lame or not, he had put a lot of thought into it.

"A molecular kit?"

He beamed. Damn straight. Expensive, too. There was just something about the other's surprise. He loved anything that could get a rare reaction from his roommate. It was fun. "For your chemistry classes. I heard it helps a lot."

"I don't need it. Return it."

He was too tired to argue; he just wasn't in the mood for it. He took a deep breath. His roommate was just being his roommate. It wasn't personal. Or maybe it was. "I wallowed in the store for more than an hour, Sasuke."

"You use it."

He wanted to scream, but swallowed instead. Taking the box out of his roommate's hands, he broke the thin plastic wrap around the kit. Rendered unreturnable. He placed it on the desk. "I want _you_ to use it." Even a genius could find _some _kind of amusement in such colorful choking hazards.

The top slid off. He watched as his roommate picked up two three-dimensional black atoms. "Completely unnecessary."

"Right…" he agreed, studying the other's movements in order to figure out whether or not he should be disappointed. "So we're good."

There was an indistinguishable sigh. Someone's temper was obviously being held. "There was nothing wrong."

"Just confirming." Grinning, he closed in for the kill. For once, his roommate was oblivious to his attack. "Since we're on such good terms, what makes you think I like someone?"

_Clatter._

Half of the contents in the kit nearly jumped ship. His roommate must have jarred it. Things were getting interesting. He had _never _seen Sasuke unsettle _anything._ The question was enough to make his roommate uncomfortable. Obviously good stuff.

"Not much," the other answered. The disorder was reorganized, the plastic bag of bonds pulled apart.

It wasn't 'nothing.' 'Not much' was a very careful answer. His roommate began chaining the small parts together. An obvious diversion tactic. Eye aversion. He would not be fooled.

"Tell me," he persisted, but with some afterthought, added: "Please." Some more afterthought. "I mean…" he winced and even closed his eyes for this part, "It's not like… you were _wrong._"

"So it is that girl."

"… No, it's not her. It's… someone else."

There was that monosyllabic murmur that his roommate was so good at utilizing. The other shuffled through the kit and looked pointlessly absorbed in putting together some chemical monstrosity.

"So what did I do?" He wracked his brain. Although he was no objective third-party, he couldn't remember any changes in his behavior. Consciously, at least. Speaking of which, his curiosity could not be contained. "Did I make a drunken confession?" It was a logical question.

"No…" there was a pause, and then, rather suspiciously, his roommate offered all-too-easily, "You danced a lot with this one girl." Sasuke turned and gave the newly finished molecular structure to him. "Here. C-five, H-eight, N, Na, and O-four."

There was a 94 chance his roommate was still withholding secrets. A for effort, Uchiha, but after receiving an F for failing to fool Naruto, it's still averaged to a C! And what the hell was this jumbled mess? He eyed the plastic model. "What does that mean?"

"It means monosodium glutamate."

"No! Not this, you… ARGH." Hey, he had the right to a quick, frustrated noise. "That can't be it!" Before his roommate could give him another piece of academic education, he countered, "What _else?"_ Then he had another idea. "Why Hinata?"

"You kissed this other person." As if to prevent any additional questions on details, the roommate followed up with, "Or made out?" The other made what could have been a grimace, as if saying such a colloquial phrase sullied him entirely.

"Okay…" Was _that _it? Personally, he was having trouble gauging how traumatic this bit of information made his life. It had to be bad if his roommate kept it under wraps for so long, right?

"Your_… _friend just resembled her." A normal person would have shrugged here. His roommate went back to playing with the molecular kit. "I misunderstood."

He didn't trust the other to tell the truth, but he didn't have much more to go on. "Is that really all there is to it?"

"Yes." Problem resolved, his roommate gave a small smile. Not fake. Not superior. Just. One of those little things. "Here."

"What's this?" He held a smaller molecule.

"C-two, H-five, O-H." Pushing away the kit, his roommate reached for the long-neglected headphones. "Put them on your desk or something." Nerd, right?

"Why?" He studied the chain uncertainly. What was this? "Don't you need this stuff?"

"No. You do."

And what was that supposed to mean?

* * *

Four score and seven hours into the next week, a knock on the door startled him so much that he accidentally double-clicked and got the Red X. Damn it. That was the seventh Solitaire loss in a row.

"Hi. Is Sasuke here?"

He blinked. He should have put on some decent clothes (a shirt, perhaps?), but it was a little too late for that. Geez. This girl was pretty. Authoritatively so.

The water was running in the bathroom. "He's in the shower." It was a valid assumption. What to do? The girl wasn't moving. A stalker? His roommate was bound to have some. At least this one carried herself fairly normally.

Her eyes flickered to the door. "I just finished my part for lab. Mind if I wait for him… Naruto?"

He shrugged. What the hell. If Sasuke could play host for his friend, he should be able to do the same. Stepping to the side, he was at another loss. Where could she sit? "Uh, you can take my chair if you want. I wasn't doing… much."

She smiled, eyes bright as she settled before his computer. She must have noticed all the computerized money he had lost. "Thanks. I'm Sakura."

"Nice to meet you." He sprawled, abdomen down, on his mattress. His roommate should be out any minute now. "So… how is your quarter?"

"It's good. Tedious, but fine," Sakura replied amiably, surveying the room, "The pre-meds need to chill though."

He pushed up higher on his elbows, "Are you one of them?" She looked smart, but seemed so nice! Where was the stereotypical competitive, shady aura?

His roommate exited the bathroom with a soft click of the door handle. Two pairs of eyes swiveled in that direction. She trained a steady gaze. He averted his eyes to the adjacent wall.

No, you wish. Unfortunately, his roommate didn't flounce around the room half-naked like he had the lovely tendency to. Sasuke consistently left the bathroom dressed. Entered dressed too. It was probably a good thing, because even dressed down and looking damp, his roommate looked fucking appealing. Appeared fuckable? Shit.

"Sakura. Finished?" A towel ruffled his roommate's hair in an attempt to dry the wet strands.

"Yes, but we need to check our numbers." She looked completely unfazed by the other's appearance.

Geez. Was she asexual too? What's with pretty people not having any outward reactions to sexified objects of desire? He groaned and flopped right onto his face. Oh, glorious bed. Please swallow in one painless gulp.

"Naruto, are you okay?" Sakura asked. She sounded concerned, even as she lay out all her calculations for her lab partner.

"Yeah," he intoned softly, trying to keep the bitterness from creeping into his voice. This wave of unhappiness was unexpected. He needed a double shot of reality. Why. The. Fuck. Was he attracted to his roommate. _Why. _Why Sasuke.

He closed his eyes facing the wall, immobile on his mattress. He wasn't feigning sleep. It was more like pretending his surroundings was… not this room.

"It looks good. I'll type it up tonight."

"Great," she tucked her laptop under her arm again. "Have a good night, you two."

"'Night, Sakura," he rolled over to bid her goodbye, not sure whether he enjoyed her presence or disliked it, but wanting to return her politeness all the same. "Visit often."

He was treated to her smile. "Sure." Before the door swung shut behind her, she added, "Oh, and I love the ethanol model on your desk, Naruto."

Huh? "What is eth…?" He was talking to the door. Great. He glanced at his roommate, who turned back to whatever work needed to be finished as if hiding something.

How much face was lost if he admitted that he felt threatened? He flipped onto his back, eyes closed. The bed frame creaked. She was perfect. How so? Intelligent, beautiful, confident... and apparently uninterested.

His eyes snapped open. That was The Type. Sasuke's Type. Fucking shit. There was no way he could compare. Sure, he missed a few characteristics by a smidgen. Plus, he was _male_ and she was _female. _Damn anatomy.

But he learned his lesson already. There was no point in directly asking his roommate something. He had to work another angle. A different strategy.

Sitting up, he swung his legs over the edge of the mattress. He had a plan. "Sasuke." Hear that? That's called resolve. And he was getting good at it.

"What now?" Webster would claim rights to his roommate in order to define 'charming'. Utilized right under its antonym. No problem. He could work with that.

"Let's go out."

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Please review and leave any feedback possible. Your reviews motivate me to keep going, and I greatly appreciate it! Thank you for reading and commenting!


	9. Chapter 9

**Dedication: **_Futago no Seishi__ deserves (love)x(six.ohTWO times ten-tothe-twentythirdpower)._

* * *

Not

By LilPurplFlwr

* * *

Some things sounded a lot better mentally than they did in reality. This was one stupid moment of impulse that he would pay good money to keep off the record.

"Out?" Sasuke repeated after a silent interval. His roommate finally turned, very slightly, away from the lab report. "We ate two hours ago."

He hadn't been referring to food. Actually, he hadn't been referring to anything. He hadn't planned any further than his magnificent one-liner. He was screwed. He could feel it.

"No, I know. I mean…" What did he mean?! Think. _Think. _He was going to prove blond stereotypes wrong. "Literally out. Out of this room." No, no. He definitely was the prime example of his kind.

His roommate had adopted that familiar look that appeared when he tried the other's patience for too long. Too long was never that long, since this was his roommate. It was similar to a normal person's look of exasperation, but a level more suppressed.

His eyes landed on a stray flyer in the recycling basket. Ah, he had his explanation now. He directed his famously commercial-ready smile at his roommate. "Let's go clubbing." Talk about thinking on his feet.

"…_What_?"

If he could systematically get his roommate's face to blank out like that, he had the potential to save the world. He was going to be nominated for a Nobel Peace Prize. "Well, I'm _bored."_ He was ready to be scolded.

"We have class tomorrow. In the morning." Ah. Correction. _Sasuke _had class in the morning. And if he himself did, he wouldn't go anyway. Academic delinquent for the win!

Plowing on. "And we haven't done anything interesting in a while. Come on!"

"I have to…"

"—You can do the driving!" Well. If his roommate drove, they could come back any time. His argument was flawless!

"…finish this. _Tonight, _Naruto."

"I'll pay for parking. _Please?_"

He shut his roommate up. Either that, or Sasuke gave up. Well done, Naruto! He was good. He was _damn_ good.

* * *

There was barely enough room to get around. So this was what constituted a successful clubbing event. How fitting. He had successfully dragged his roommate out. To this absolute madness. Bad idea, much?

"Hey." The music pounded in his ears. He could barely hear _himself _talk. "_SAI."_

Finally noticing something (him), his friend stepped away from the ever-present flock of girls with the usual smile. One pulled him back momentarily to land a kiss on the corner of his mouth. Obviously tipsy.

"Good to see you, Naruto," Sai greeted, taking a drink only to discreetly wipe his mouth after. Two guesses why. "Where's the date?"

He sighed. He expected as much. "The _roommate _went to search for the bathroom." He then grinned at his friend, "Fraternity life is good, huh?"

Sai directed his disarming smile at some sorority girls as they walked past. "It has its perks outside the dirty politics."

Honestly, there was something off about Sai. The strangest things would be said with a pleasant expression. That face would win millions gambling. "Well, thanks for getting us in on such short notice."

There was the clink of ice against glass. Sai was out of liquor. That wouldn't do. "Anytime. Want something?"

He hesitated. Did he? Moderation wasn't really in his vocabulary…

"You do," Sai decided for him. "I'll be back then." His friend turned to maneuver toward one of three bars in the club. "I wanted to meet your date anyway."

Okay, that had to be on fucking purpose! "Roommate, you dick!"

He took in the scene. The dance floor was territory of the girls dancing with friends or grinding with boys. Or both.. Others lined the perimeter of the area, staring predatorily at the mass of swiveling bodies.

He jolted. He looked like a dirty sleaze too. Quickly spinning back toward the counter, he couldn't avoid the dark figure that ran right into him.

"Hey!" Crowded or not, accidental bumps were annoying after so many. Whoa. "Sasuke?" He blinked.

His roommate's eyes were reflecting the flashing lights. It was a crazy phenomenon. He must have noticed because the other's eyes were wider than usual. Just a bit.

"Naruto," Sasuke did not even try to yell, opting to lean mere centimeters away from his ear to speak. He tensed. The other's voice dropped even lower. "This place…" It sounded important, so he tried to focus. "_…is really uncomfortable_."

Shit. This wasn't just important. It was a momentous occasion. His roommate had just admitted… something. And it was personal. He wasn't sure how to proceed. "… What happened?"

The other pulled away and glanced around. He knew Sasuke would refuse to dignify his question with an answer. Not out of embarrassment. No, more like it-disturbs-me-to-think-about-it-ness.

Sai suddenly appeared with a smile and alcohol, which was promptly handed over. "Here. This the—?"

"—Yeah, thanks," he interrupted with a grin, ready to take a gulp when a hand enslaved his wrist. What the? Really, now. "Uh… Sasuke…"_ Unhand me, please?_

"Who are you?" The roommate gave Sai a suspicious once-over.

Rude or not, circle what was wrong in this picture. One: There was a hindrance to his drinking. Two: Sai's typical smile widened.

"It's just Sai. Let go, bastard," he pulled lightly, freeing his arm. He took a big swallow. Ah, blessed alcohol. "Sasuke, Sai. Sai, this is my roommate, Sasuke." Sai slung an arm over his shoulders. That deserved a dirty glare. His friend was heavy.

"Honored to meet you, Sasuke." Sai surprisingly could manage a serious expression too. "Don't worry. It's not drugged," Sai promised innocently, pulling him closer and downing a double shot in a smooth motion.

Suddenly, he didn't feel safe anymore. Even with Sai pressed against him. No, correction. _Because _Sai was pressed against him. His roommate's eyes were narrowing. Oh, man. There was no way he was pouring his drink over Sai. No way. Cake was one thing; alcohol was expensive stuff.

Sai looked too happy. Sasuke looked too unhappy. He should just drop to his knees and start apologizing.

"By the way, Sasuke," his now-deemed-dangerous friend sure knew how to make smooth conversation. Abuse nonchalance with his roommate's name too. "You should brush yourself off."

He stopped fidgeting. No. Not because he gave up throwing Sai off any time soon, but because Sasuke's dark clothes were dusted with glitter. In the most (un)desirable area.

… _Whatthefuck??_

He would have feared for Sai's life if he weren't so... What. The. HELL?! Seriously… what shit did he miss?

His roommate was scowling. Outright scowling as the scattered shine was grudgingly swept onto the floor.

"And while inexperienced," Sai continued, pouring forth hazardous wisdom, "One should not resemble a pole when a girl dances with you."

Oh, **fuck no. **Sai did not... no, not even Sai. _Sasuke did not…_

He almost dropped his cup. No. He did. But there was no crash. Sai smirked, taking a casual sip from the salvaged glass. The image burned. What kind of fucking bitchwhore rubbed herself against the unwilling?!

He didn't resist when Sasuke grabbed his forearm and yanked. "We're leaving."

Sai released him very easily, the relaxed smile slipping into place. "So soon?"

His roommate's grip tightened. Ow, fuck it! Sasuke appeared pale. Unusually so. Kind of repressed looking.

"Fuck you." His roommate spat finally.

He let himself be pulled through the crowd. What just happened?!

Life wasn't meant to be this dramatic.

* * *

He slept through his classes. What a waste of tuition. Who cared.

His roommate had stayed up all night. Why? _Why? _Because not only did he make his roommate take him out on a 'school night,' he made his roommate do it when Sasuke still had schoolwork to do. That was due. This morning. In which he slept through.

Yes. Exactly. He was a useless, corrupting machine.

When he was awake enough to engage in some intellectual lecture video watching, he wondered how his roommate was holding up. The guy actually went to class. Probably research too.

The answer came three hours after the sun set. He should have recognized the bad omen. Like how he closed his desk drawer on his hand.

The door clicked open and close. He paused the online video to greet the other as usual. "Welco—" His sentence tumbled right into itself.

Sasuke's eyes were dead and bloodshot. His roommate looked haunted. The backpack was dropped unceremoniously.

"Shit." He wasn't staring. He just couldn't look away. No way. He messed up his one and only roommate.

The other didn't respond. Not a surprise. Then his roommate flicked off both lights. And undressed.

He was going to wake up. He was going to pinch himself and wake up from this really, really (long) fucked up dream.

His roommate was always composed. Always on schedule. Always had on _clothes_. This was not a funny joke. Sasukes, by nature, did not wander into rooms zoned out.

The white computer glow stung his eyes. That, or he hadn't blinked in a while. Damn. He should go buy something to block all that internet porn. It was inspiring hallucinations of a half naked roommate.

The roommate, seemingly and completely detached from existence, crawled into bed and buried (no joke) beneath the dark blue comforter.

He swallowed. "Sasuke…" he tried tentatively.

The response sounded like a growl. A threatening grumble made from the lower voice box.

Rendered speechless, he shut off his computer. Improperly so. Video lecture and notes and all. The dimly illuminated room went black.

He could have sworn his roommate sighed.

Much too perturbed and awake for the middle of the night, he took residence in the lounge. He wanted to keep his head, you see.

Few hours later, when scrounged food was consumed and academic work was completed enough to slack off… he questioned his sanity when he inched (as silently as possible) back into the room.

Then the door swung shut with a _THUD. _Shit! He never noticed before, but that was fucking loud!

Expected to be charred to a crisp by the cranky (for good reason, he supposed) drago—roommate, he meant—he was surprised to be first-degree-burn-free. There was no movement in the room.

Odd. Dropping off his laptop on his bed, he approached the other bed. Light would be nice. Actually, that was a risk he was not willing to take.

Eyes adjusting, he confirmed from even breathing that his roommate continued to sleep. Impressive. He would have woken up hungry by now. Maybe he should check.

He knelt. "_Sasuke._" As always, whispers proved ineffective. "Sasuke," he repeated at a carefully measured volume.

Was…? He lightly patted his roommate's shoulder. Unexpectedly, the other didn't stir. At all. Dude. The guy was completely passed out. This was amazing. Somewhat guilt-inducing, but nevertheless, amazing. A once-in-a-lifetime chance of a perfectly comatose roommate. Scratch that.

A perfectly _vulnerable _roommate.

… He was the worst person in the world. Wanting to kiss his roommate, who was unconscious, made him a bad person, right? The curiosity was overwhelming. When would he ever get a chance like this? Obviously, if conscious, his roommate would never let him do it.

No. This made for the perfect ultimatum. If he emerged unscathed from this mouth-to-mouth, he would have accomplished one thing. If he felt revulsion, then _good. _He was over this attraction. If he felt… what was the other option? If he felt compelled to do it again, then _fuck. _He was confessing something to his roommate in the near future.

He just had to check again. Just to be safe. "Sasuke… _wake up_."

Nothing. Okay. Green light. CPR-reenactment, _go. _

He tilted his head. This was an awkward position. Good thing it was dark. He could see outlines. Sasuke wouldn't be able to see anything, though. Right?

He should do it quickly. No. Haste makes waste. That meant he would mess it up. He paused again. This was taking too long. His roommate could wake up any second. Gah, this was too much! He twitched. Holding still made him ache.

At least this was the right angle. How much pressure? Light. Undisruptive. Somehow forgettable. Okay. He could do that. He matched his lips gently onto his roommate's. Warm. Soft. The urge to press harder. He was—_fuck. _FUCK! Retreat!_ Retreat!_

He jerked back, staring wide-eyed at his roommate.

Sasuke slept on. Incredible.

He scooted away from the other's bed. He touched his mouth. Tongued his bottom lip.

Fucking shit. He wanted to do it again. The satisfaction was unsettling, but it was there. It was so clearly there.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck**fuck.**

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

_Thank you for your thoughtful comments. Feedback is always appreciated. Best wishes for 2008!_


	10. Chapter 10

**Dedication:**_ For __Futago no Seishi__, who discussed scenario after scenario with me, edited draft after draft of this chapter, and filled in the missing bits and pieces when I failed._

* * *

Not

By LilPurplFlwr

* * *

What were the chances that his roommate was attracted to him too? 

Probably one to six billion. Only slightly better than a randomly chosen person in the world. Honestly. What a stupid question to ask. Actually, he was kind of arrogant to even wonder that… arrogant, stupid, same difference.

He had to mentally prepare himself for this suicide mission. If he was still alive after being so completely rejected (if not also castrated by mechanical pencil), he was going to change his name, get a new passport, and fly out to the South Pole. He heard penguins were pretty cool birds.

Long story short, one week into strategizing and he was still at square one.

* * *

Where?

There were only two requirements to fill when it came to location.

Number One: Not the Room. _Never _the Room. It wasn't sacred, per se. It was just…. the Room. He would, from confession point forth, have the strongest repulsion to that spot.

He tried. Once. Sort of. He had thought to try it. He had opened his mouth and nothing came out, except for a noise similar to one of strangulation. His roommate had looked over and asked if he had choked on nothing again.

Number Two: Not somewhere he frequented.

How about here?

He sat on the library stairs. Waiting for his roommate. It was ten minutes to six. He scrolled up and down his contact list. Hmm. He could edit the entry '_roommate'._ Slowly, he entered '_S a s u k e'_. Killed about a minute.

He slouched even lower. The students that were milling around the library were making him self-conscious.

Other people. Shit. His roommate was right about one thing (no surprise there). He was a grade-A moron. He was not doing this in public. He couldn't do it in front of other people. And he picked this place… why?

God, he sucked at plotting. He would make the world's worst conspirator.

"Oi. You look homeless."

Oh, that sounded painfully familiar. He lifted his head and took in the image of his white-coated roommate. Wow. Shit. He felt obligated to call up the manufacturer of laboratory attire and personally thank them for designing something so sexy.

"Thanks, bastard." He refrained from adding,_ 'Are you good at playing creatively with clothes?' _He cringed. Goddamn it. That was freaky enough. His heart jerked. He hadn't even given himself away and he felt mortified. "You got time?"

His roommate checked his watch. "About four minutes. Research at six."

The hell? Again? _Four _minutes? Time was measured like a ticking bomb to this guy. "Oh."

He wasn't going to do it. He didn't even have time to gather his words. Four hours, maybe. Minutes, no way. Next time, he should pre-write what to say and then recite it. He could even practice in front of the mirror.

"So?"

A prompt. Oh, no. He was expected to have some substance. He had to make a cover. And quickly.

He blanked. "Sorry," he finally replied. "I--It wasn't anything important."

"What is it?" his roommate asked, a little edgy.

The other's patience seemed in the all-time lows nowadays. He stared past his roommate's shoulder. "Uhm… you know…" He shrunk even more. He hated being studied like that. "Last week." He offered a tentative smile as collateral. "'Cause I was bored and all..."

"I don't have time for this." Sasuke sighed, running a hand through some unruly strands. "I'm late." And turned to leave.

"Well, I'm sorry!" He admitted out loud. And sincerely. He was. For more reasons than he let on.

"Can you wait until nine?"

"Huh?"

His roommate stopped and looked about ready to smack him. "To eat, idiot."

"Oh…"

Charismatic as always.

* * *

When?

There were only two requirements to fill when it came down to timing.

Number One: Not on a good day. _Never _on a good day. He needed all the good days he could get before every day after the confession was a bad day.

He tried. Once. Sort of. He almost did it. He had aced a midterm, finished his laundry, _and_ a pretty girl complimented his shirt. Feeling great and on a roll, he tracked down the roommate. Before he could even say anything, his roommate told him to shut up. Some classmate had spilled hydrochloric acid on his roommate that day. He couldn't compete with that.

Number Two: Not when his roommate was not happy with him.

How about now?

Three days later. So late at night it was technically the next morning.

His plan was flawless. He even knew what he was going to say. Well, mostly. There wasn't a lot to say. It really was, maybe, a maximum of four words. It just required luring his roommate out of the room.

He called. Standing right outside the dorm building. His thumb hit _Send. _00:00:01.

"_It's late."_

Why couldn't Sasuke answer the phone with a hello like a normal person? "I forgot my key. Let me in. Please."

"_Moron."_

The connection was gone. He looked at his phone's screen. It blinked 00:00:17.

If he took the summation of Sasuke speaking in respect to time (t-initial equal to 0), the answer would be around four thousand, one hundred forty seconds. His roommate talked about as often as often as he _didn't._ Well, that confirmed it. They were fucking made for each other. Or made for f—never mind.

His exhales were forming condensation. It was damn chilly. He paced. He bounced. He ran up and down the stairs outside the dorm.

"What are you doing?"

He was at the bottom of the steps. Sasuke was at the top. Quite bundled. No wonder it took so long.

"Come here!" And then added as seriously as he could, "I have to tell you something."

It was so cold that he _saw _his roommate heave another sigh. If he had to choose one thing that made life beautiful, it was his roommate bending to his whims.

Once right next to him, his roommate gave him a hard stare. "What is it?"

Deep breath. He squared himself. No point in cowering. "We… no. I mean I." Another inhale. "I. L…" His l-sound was trailing off. No, no, no. He was so far in, he couldn't back out now! Maybe he would feel less shitty if Sasuke weren't looking at him like he was absolutely crazy! Which he already decided he was, but that was beside the point.

"… like. Y…" It was freezing and he was sweating and his y-sound was in the process of dying, too. He could feel the blood rushing to his face. Shit. He could not do this. But he needed to.

_Fuck no. _Why was his roommate coming _closer_ to him? He rocked back a step.

"Yogurt!" He mumbled in a panic. Five. Four. TwoOne. **Fuck** squared! He just said _what? _He wanted to bash his head into the brick wall.

"You're going to get sick out here," his roommate warned, the tone slightly suggesting exasperation. Some distance was finally put between them. "Let's go in."

They were on different planets. No, not even. They were like the sun and Neptune. Not even in the same category and 2.8 billions miles apart! Shit. A new low. He was doomed to fail from the start.

Fate: 4. Naruto: 0.

When he woke up the next morning, there was a Yoplait yogurt on his dresser. Staring at him. He rolled over.

That's it. He definitely felt sick.

* * *

How?

There was one, and only one requirement to fill when it came to method.

Number One: Not the delaying process. Anything but the process of lagging and beating around the bush. He would self-induce a blackout from the pressure.

He had not tried. At all. Moral of the story? None. He learned nothing from this arduous experience except that he was scared shitless. And he already knew that. Mostly.

So how about this?

He visualized the scenario multiple times. Research showed that this technique produced success. Exactly. Damn it, he was going to succeed. Science was backing him! Moreover, he needed to get a head start on nursing rejection wounds before he snapped and mauled his roommate. On the bed. Or desk. Or whatever surface was convenient at the time of psychosis.

"Sasuke."

The washer sloshed in response. His roommate flipped another flashcard over before looking at him. "Hm?"

"I need to talk to you." His videogame could wait. It was set aside.

The other glanced back down at the condensed notes with an inconspicuous frown. "Then talk." Another flip. A deeper frown.

Could the guy _not _study right now? Naruto plunging head first into the stupidest act of his life warranted full concentration. He glared at the stack of life science material with much contempt. "Photosynthesis can't be _that _interesting." He was just a _little _bitter. Just a little.

"You're two weeks late, idiot." His roommate held up a 3x5 note card with a diagram. "We're on animal reproduction."

Whoa. Hello, sperm formation. He tilted his head. Damn, what a picture. Definitely an omen. Wait, no. _Stop._ Fuck spermatogenesis! No more distractions! "Well, we need to talk. About you." Hmm, wait, that wasn't quite right. "Actually, I meant me." Self-centered, much? "Or us two." Did he mean _we?_

For once, the other's speech lacked its terse attribute. "Okay…" Confused. Well, not exactly. But something equally weird. Uncertainty? It sounded like it.

"Okay." He repeated. The weird feeling was mutual. He hated when his roommate stared at him. It was inducing this frozen, blank state. This state in which he would be compliant to drown himself. "I mean." He didn't plan to soften the blow, so he didn't. "Sasuke." He swallowed. Now was as good a time as any. His heart was going to beat itself to death. "I kind of… uhm, well. Like you."

He winced, expecting flying projectiles.

But nothing happened. He struggled to regain some sense of regularity. Shit. Where was the bodily injury? What the hell. He… _now what?_ "Yeah," he slowly concluded, not wanting to speak anymore when it was so painfully silent.

There was _no reaction._

Finally, Sasuke moved. Broke the impromptu staring contest. And looked away. Dark eyes darted to the side, then down. He almost didn't recognize it, but when he did, he knew he actually _did _it. Uneasiness. It was there. On his roommate's face. Shit.

The other studied the wet colors swirling in the washing machine. Never one to assume, and always one to clarify when in doubt, his roommate asked carefully, "What do you mean?"

No surprise. He had prepared for this question. "I'm a—" It crossed his mind to re-route the conversation, but it was _happening. _Here and now. He just hoped he wouldn't have to repeat himself. "Attracted. To you."

The other's eyes widened a fraction. Sasuke remained sitting, however. The study cards fell from slack hands.

"What?" The disbelief was clear. His roommate's eyebrows remained knitted.

Repetition, here we go. He took a deep breath. "I said—"

"I heard you."

Then _what? _What more could he say? Bewildered, he grimaced himself. "Look, it's just—"

"You're kidding." Sasuke interjected again, eyes searching his face for confirmation. "You can't be serious."

He never expected his roommate to go into denial. Oh, wait. That's what he did. "Unfortunately, no. I'm serious." Hey, there was no way he could pull this off as a joke even if he wanted to. He fidgeted. Shoot. Now what? He picked at the detergent label. Damn. Honestly. _Now. What?_

"So you… kissed me on purpose."

_What? _Sasuke _knew? _The bag let out more cats than he intended. He looked up, caught red-handed. "You were _awake?"_

At this point, Sasuke actually looked more confused. "Of course," the other confirmed, looking affronted. "I had to haul your drunk ass home."

Huh? When was he ever that dru-**OH.** _Oh,_ indeed. Oooooh, shieet. He flushed. So that's how it went. "I ki--" He stopped. No need to further embarrass himself by restating the obvious. "Did--" Sasuke actually let him do that? That wasn't safe thinking either. "I don't remember that one," he finally answered, lamely.

"One?" The other repeated with some suspicion.

Oh, fuck! "It wasn't on purpose at all!" he finished in a hurry, waving his hands defensively, "I'm sorry! I won't do it again! I didn't mean to…" at that time. Honestly. "I didn't." Shit. He didn't know where to look anymore. Maybe the floor.

"So it was the alcohol." Sasuke sounded almost normal. Almost. Not good.

"Yes?" Was that a rhetorical question or a statement that required an answer?

"Are you drunk?"

Fuck, _**what? **_Right now? "NO! I'm…" Sober? "It's not…" As if he only liked Sasuke when he was plastered? It wasn't a temporary thing. "It's… every day. I…"

He ventured a glance into the other's eyes. Shit. They had narrowed. "This." His roommate's voice broke slightly. "This is _not_ funny, Naruto."

"I'm not lying!" He was as frustrated as he was hurt. Why wouldn't Sasuke just… "Why don't you _believe_ me?" It tumbled right out of his mouth before he even considered choosing his next words.

The other's expression was strange. Not blank, but not specifically _anything._ It was indescribable. Sasuke looked… lost. Doubtful. Hesitant.

"Why…?" He repeated, desperation rising. Why didn't he realize he would never be prepared for this? There was nothing else he could say. Nothing else he could do.

Sasuke looked away and stared off at some random point. The silence was heavy.

If he hadn't been staring at his roommate so much, been so focused, he would have missed the other's quietly mumbled phrase. But he didn't. And he wished he had.

"_I can't believe this…"_

Yeah, neither could he. He dropped his gaze, lowered his head, and closed his eyes.

Good going, Naruto. Time to invest in those plane tickets now.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **_I'm sorry for the long wait! I had a tough time with this chapter (and Futago no Seishi probably had an even harder time fixing the mess I wrote!)._

_Please review! I really appreciate any feedback you can offer! Thank you!_


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Notes: **_I would like to apologize for the long wait. This chapter made Not 10 seem like a walk in the park. I thank you for your endless patience!_

**Dedication: **_Futago no Seishi__… damn you for being so flip-tastically wonderful. You helped turn this piece of crap into something worth reading. I've never seen anyone work miracles like you do._

* * *

Not

By LilPurplFlwr

* * *

_Ten._

* * *

He considered himself lucky. Really.

Why? Because his roommate was currently folding laundry in their room? Or because they came to a mutual agreement-slash-understanding?

Of course not.

He was lucky, because avoiding the guy was going to be a piece of cake compared to all the shit that went down.

Avoiding? Why? Because there was be nothing more frightening than meeting his roommate face to face now, much less talking. Talking is much too mortifying. This must not happen. Ever. Never! He did want to keep the last shreds of his masculinity, after all.

How was he going to pull this off? He just needed to… tamper with his schedule a little. As long as his location was different from his roommate's at all times, life was golden. After all, the guy was _just _his roommate. There were plenty of people who never saw their roommates. And it helped that his roommate always left their room earlier and came back later than he did.

Places, places, places… how about the library? If he stayed at the library until midnight, he was safe (for today at least). It had five levels, was literally half a mile away from their room, and no one would even think to look for him there. Perfect.

After dumping his rumpled (but clean) clothes on his bed, he immediately backed out of the room and left the building.

Ten minutes later (he ran), he had scoped out the entire library and dropped onto a sofa in the northeast corner of the fourth floor. No one else there but a lone graduate student among the book stacks.

See? Easy. He could totally do this.

* * *

_Nine._

* * *

Ten fifteen. His roommate would be back soon. How much time did that give him to be asleep?

He rubbed the towel against his head furiously. Stupid hair! Dry faster! Damn it. Why did he have to finish reading those articles for class? What a waste of precious roommate-avoiding time!

If he were to rewind his life to a happier time (i.e. before the Incident), he would have been eagerly anticipating the other's return. Because then they could eat. All good college students ate during ten and two at night.

Well, now he couldn't be a good college student. Limited options, see?

He was not going to be caught awake. No way in hell. There was no obligation to be conscious (and make conversation) when sleeping. A foolproof plan.

Still toweling. His ears picked up the sound of the key sliding in the lock.

_OhFUCKbedNOW._ He slammed off the lights. Two meter dash! The door unlocked behind him. He landed with a springy _thump._ Horizontal position towards the wall! Eyes shut! _Look asleep._

His roommate entered and paused, probably due to the lack of light. The door shut very softly. It remained dark. A backpack was set on the carpet. Seconds later, the bathroom door closed almost inaudibly and he heard the faucet running.

He finally exhaled and rolled onto his back. When did he stop breathing? He eyed the ceiling and then stared at the sliver of light under the bathroom door.

Could have been worse. That was encouraging.

* * *

_Eight._

* * *

It was four thirty. Walking home had never been this tedious until today.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out. Phone call. From '_S a s u k e.'_

His eyes widened. What _was _this? The guy never called! Should he admit that he was kind of scared? Not that a phone call could be dangerous, but… you never know.

Wait. Think about it. Avoiding the guy would take more than not being there physically.

… Ignore the phone.

He wasn't required to pick up. He could be busy! Singing in the shower. Trapped in the closet. Dancing in the Nile. Whatever. Just… not available.

_One missed call. S a s u k e._

He studied the screen. He felt kind of bad. Hold that thought. Don't go there. After one last stare, he dropped the phone back into his pocket.

He had walked about twenty steps when his cell vibrated against his leg. _What? Again? _No, that envelope icon meant a text message this time. _Just _a text.

Giving into curios—no, bad habit!stopstop—he opened the message.

'_Are you still in class?'_

Fuck, no! The temptation! To reply or not to reply. Since when did he ever _not _reply? But if he did text back, what could he possibly say? _Yes, I'll be in class for the next seven years, so I can't talk to you?_

On second thought… with a harder-than-necessary push, he turned off his phone. There.

Fuck that.

* * *

_Seven._

* * *

Today was the toughest yet. According to his calculations, he would be in the Room for at least fifteen minutes.

Outside the door, he stretched his interlocking fingers over his head. Deep breath. Okay. Ready.

He swung open the door and paused to assess the situation. Roommate. Sitting on bed. Quite docile. The guy looked up from reading, gaze locking on him.

Please breathe. Lack of oxygen equates to brain suicide. "Hi," he managed coherently, entering with forced nonchalance. Wait. He was in a hurry. So _hurry up. _He tossed his notebook urgently onto his desk."Studying?"

"No," The other responded, scrutinizing his movements. He could _feel _his sweat glands kick into gear.

He toed off his shoes and began tossing his clothes into his hamper. "—Cool," he interrupted quickly, "I'm showering." Yes, inform the roommate of his soon to be unavailable status.

Eight minutes later, he was fumbling gel through his hair. Doing well. When he stepped out of the bathroom, he faked intense interest with his clothing selection.

He barely suppressed a flinch when his roommate put down the book (not even a textbook!) and asked, "Where are you going?"

He shrugged on a shirt over jeans and—_fuck_, wallet was in his other pants—began searching. "Out. Don't you have lab due tomorrow?"

"I finished."

He froze. No, he was _not _tempted to ask his roommate out again. He shoved the offending wallet into his pocket. "Good." He sounded a little strained. "Great."

He needed a distraction, and he needed it _now._ Keys! Please don't forget the keys! He checked as he swung the door open. "See you." The door slammed behind him.

Fourteen minutes.

He leaned against the wall with a sigh. He was fucking tired.

* * *

_Six._

* * *

Returning at 3:07 am, he nudged the door shut, only to pause when his sleeping roommate turned beneath covers. Huh. Weird. Continuing to his bed, he heard an unfamiliar sound and froze.

Was it just him, or did the guy just breath out a frustrated sigh? Okay, whatever. Too tired to care.

He was crawling into bed when his roommate shifted yet again. Was the guy asleep or awake? Maybe the usually calm sleeper was having a bad dream. Yeah. That's it. He didn't give it another thought.

So it was completely understandable that he nearly suffered a myocardial infarction when shrill ringing jerked him awake at 6:00 am.

He should have known something was amiss. He never heard the other's alarm. Nevertheless, when the ruckus ceased and his indignation wore off, he fell asleep almost instantly. He was, after all, a simple man.

Three hours later, he woke up to his vibrating phone. He blindly turned off the alarm before vibrating turned into clamoring, and with a flop onto one shoulder, he rolled up using the wall for support as he rubbed his eyes. Sloth. Not a sin. School. Now that's a candidate. Fuck. Way too early…

He nearly fell out of his bed when his eyes focused.

That dark blue lump in the next bed… his roommate was _still_ asleep? No. It couldn't be.

He slid off his bed and inched across the room. _Whaaaat…_ there was no doubting that hair. Stop staring. That's rude. And unhealthy. Guy was just sleeping. Sleeping in at… nine. in. the. morning.

Oh, damn. Blizzard in hell, no?

He was being overdramatic. But should he do something about this? He risked his life too many times already. Hold that thought. Naruto wasn't meant for thinking in the morning.

Twenty minutes later, he set the other's clock to go off in ten minutes. And sprinted to lecture.

* * *

_Five._

* * *

Fifty feet. That's how close he came to running into his roommate again.

He was walking to his one o'clock class and saw the guy cross his line of vision.

_Oh, shit, that's him! DETOUR._ His sneakers skidded as he pivoted straight into the largest crowd nearest to him. He turned around the next corner and leaned against the wall.

What the hell. He looked around, paranoid. This was getting out of hand. His blood pressure couldn't take this much longer. And he needed new options.

He dug through his backpack. Schedule, searching, searching… hey, shouldn't the guy be in lecture on the other side of the campus right now? He squinted at the wrinkled reference and folded it twice.

This whole following-the-other's-schedule method was somehow falling apart. Maybe he was just reading the chart wrong. He checked his watch.

Shoot. Now _he_ was going to be late.

Three minutes later, he was relieved when his lecture hall's tall towers came into view. However, he almost tripped over his feet when he noticed an all too familiar figure sitting on the bench right outside the building. Looking all too motionless and not too happy. The almost-scowl on the other's face kind of tipped him off.

What the hell? This was something new—actually, frightening. Was the guy… following him? Shit. He needed to map out a new schedule as soon as possible (preferably in lecture).

Breaking into a run and mustering all his skills of stealth, he wove his way around the administrative building that ran adjacent to his lecture hall and then entered from the opposite entrance.

Damn it all. He should graduate with honors for having to sneak _into _class.

* * *

_Four._

* * *

It was around 6:30 pm when the second strangest thing happened.

He was sketching some ray diagrams for physics when the door swung open. A chill went down his spine as he tensed. Oh, no. What time was it?? _Why was his roommate home right now?_

Eyes staring pointedly (but blankly) at his homework, he wracked his brain for an explanation. Must stay calm, must stay calm—Ohgodgeez, what was he going to do?

He knew the routine. His roommate would put down the backpack and then go to the bathroom to take a shower. He would take that opportunity to escape—

"Hey."

Oh, fuck_apocalyse?!11_

His pencil was slippery. Clammy hands. Ragged breathing. Oh, no, no, no_thiscouldn'tbehappening…_

His roommate was walking up to his desk. He didn't even need eyes behind his head to know. The presence was obvious. In about two seconds, he was going to be cornered. Trapped. Shit, he was dead, dead, _dead…_

"Naruto."

Reacting (rather badly) to his name, he shoved his chair back suddenly. The guy backed up to avoid bodily injury by sliding chair.

"Oh, shit!" He cursed, unable to suppress the panic any longer. He hastily dropped his pencil and jumped out of his seat. He needed to run. Run really, really fast. He grabbed his room key by habit and bolted for the door.

"Wait a—"

"I got to go!" He blurted out, as if explaining his spastic actions. "Uh, meeting!"

Yanking the door open (and wincing when it hit the wall with a _bang_), he sprinted out and tried to forget the heavy stare that his roommate had pinned him with.

* * *

_Three._

* * *

He didn't feel very safe anymore. And he could tell that he was compensating for that. He was starting to sit only in corners. Class—upper corner. Eating—Back corner. Dorm—Highest floor, opposite lounge, in the corner.

Why? Well, from that vantage point, he could see more than fifty percent of what was threatening surrounding. If there was anything alarming or threatening, he would notice it earlier than if he had to work with a full three-hundred-sixty degrees.

With his freshly purchased sandwich, he chose a corner table on the patio shaded by a nearby tree. Today felt pretty good (i.e. there were no deviations from his roommate's routine that had him running for his life).

His pocket started vibrating. Incoming call. He pulled out his phone. _S a s u k e._ With practiced finesse, he set his cell aside.

It continued to vibrate. And against a metal table, it was grating on his fragile nerves. He should turn it off or something. As if on cue, once he picked the cell up, it stilled.

"So that's what you've been doing."

He stopped breathing. His throat closed up. His brain froze. And his heart? Dropped like a stone.

No way. He had been doing so well. Shocked to the point of paralysis, it was a battle to lift his eyes off the silent phone.

His roommate was standing in his blind spot with a grim expression. An expression that demanded explanation.

Oh god, his vision was going blurry due to oxygen deprivation. That was the only reason, right?

"I-it's… it's not…" What could he say? He swallowed and tried to fight the nausea brought on by the sheer strain of the situation. "I… shit… I'm…" The image of his roommate grew hazier. His vision needed serious clearing.

"Scared." Sasuke concluded for him, expression cross and tone clipped, before walking away.

He dropped his head into his hands. Sorry. He was _sorry. _

* * *

_Two._

* * *

He was in the boy's bathroom of the art building. It was one of the farthest points on campus, and one of the most indiscriminate as well.

Clutching the edge of the sink, he stared at his reflection. Ever since being caught red handed, every day included a debate. _Go to class. I don't want to go to class. Are you stupid? Go to class. I still don't go to class…_

No one was winning.

He lowered his head until it rested against the mirror. Well, obviously, it wasn't class that he so detested; it was his roommate being in the vicinity of his class that was consuming his soul.

But he really didn't want to drop out of college just because he needed to avoid the guy.

So yet again, he managed to covertly smuggle himself into class, open his notebook, and start scribbling notes while the professor droned.

As minutes went by, the anxiety returned and his writing got messier. Shit. What if the guy was waiting for him _after _class? In that case, he wouldn't even have a chance to spot his roommate. Leaving the classroom would be like walking straight into an ambush.

He bit his bottom lip and readjusted his pen. His leg nervously jerked up and down as if to mollify his fight-or-flight response. Should he leave early? What was that about failing his classes? _Goddammit._

A sketch of the floor plan developed where his notes should have been. Which exit? He should slip out the back. No, that was a predictable move on his part. He should leave from the front, with a large herd of rushing students. Move as a dense pack. Yeah. And stay alert.

Upon leaving and cautiously circling the area, he breathed a sigh of relief. No terrible incident, and no sign of his roommate.

He plopped onto a nearby bench. Could it be that the guy had given up trying to talk to him? He stretched and tried to lose the tension in his body. He took a deep breath.

Relax. It had to be over. No one could put up with this much for that long.

* * *

_One._

* * *

It had arrived a day and a half later.

After an attempt to asphyxiate himself by method of comforter, he had then realized he had practically called for it, making such a statement as he had. What did he expect? Murphy's Law had him chained to its bedpost, for sure.

'_We need to talk. Meet me in Biology C3-1. 8:00 pm.'_

It was now 8:39 pm. Naruto stood outside the lab with the post-it wrinkling in his hand. His roommate had left it on his pillow (and toothbrush) this morning. Not to mention a text and email.

He didn't want to admit it, but the guy had the bases covered.

He was nervous. Even now, where there was a chance that Sasuke wasn't even here anymore because he was late, he was nervous. Heart thumping, stomach flipping, hands shaking nervous.

The door handle twisted easily in his grasp. The sound echoed down the empty hall. Fuck. It was like a horror movie gone wrong. Damn sub-basement level.

When he slowly pushed open the door, his roommate looked up from some plastic sheets of who knows what.

He cleared his throat with a pathetic cough. "Uh… s-sorry. For being late." Honestly, he wasn't going to come. Or, to be more correct, he really didn't want to come. But he did. And with difficulty.

Sasuke placed the slides into a nearby folder. Silence. Waiting, waiting… oh. He jolted from his position in the doorway. He should probably go _in._ How about not?

"Uhm, about the other day," he wasn't sure if _he _was supposed to do the talking, or if his roommate had planned an itinerary, but either way, he had a couple of things to say. "Yes, I'm scared. But I'm also really _sorry. _For doing… _that_ to you." He was sure both of them knew what 'that' was. Right?

"So you hate me, okay. I asked for it." He rambled on, floundering helplessly due to the lack of response from his roommate. Why did he even come here when he knew there was no fixing this? "Are we done here?" he finally snapped in desperation. _Why are you pursuing this issue that obviously makes us both feel like utter crap?_

In the stillness, Sasuke sighed. "Come here."

"… No." He still had his escape route if he was near the door.

"Naruto, please."

His eyes widened. _What was_… it finally clicked. That was it. Sasuke had never requested _anything _from him until this moment. This was serious.

Half-heartedly, he approached his roommate, all the while staring somewhere else in the room. He sat on a stool across from the other, a good solid four-feet counter between them. He took a deep breath, "Fine."

Sasuke stood and walked to where he was. He tensed, hands gripping the cold edges of his seat. Should he…?

"Don't run," his roommate advised with a hint of warning.

Well, there went that optio—ohfuck_what?_

Sasuke had bent at the waist, aligned their lips, and pressed a very clear kiss on his mouth. His eyes couldn't get any bigger. He was so stunned that he couldn't even think much of it.

The other pulled away and straightened with a subtle smirk.

"U-uh, wha-you… _shi-i-it_," he breathed out in a jumble, fingers brushing against the seam of his lips. The _warmth._

Sasuke, in turn, collected the scattered folders. "Ready to go?"

"Uh… yeah." He was still just a little dazed. It would wear off… he hoped. Yeah.

This was a dream, right? He was going to wake up, and his roommate was leaving the room, and—

"Wait!" He shot off the chair and wove his way to the exit as well. He had to make sure. Make sure he wasn't hallucinating.

His roommate stopped halfway through the door, a mere stare making him doubt that anything had ever happened. Getting close enough, he was starting to curse this impulse, half-reasonable as it was. Trying to ignore his jittery nerves, his hands still shook when he gripped Sasuke's shirt and clumsily met the other's mouth for a second kiss.

Soft. For some reason, he was always surprised. The heat swam through his body again. He pressed against the other a little more to get more contact, but the binder that Sasuke held pushed awkwardly against his chest. He separated with a light flush. Even with the imperfect position, that felt good.

Their eyes locked, and he slowly recognized with growing dread that he could not read the other's expression. _Fuck! _He released his roommate and took a step back. Did he just… yes, he did. No doubt about it. He did it again, and he was probably in very deep shit right now. His response was automatic. "I'm sorry!" _I apparently can't control myself?_

Taking another minute to study him, his roommate simply turned away. "Come on, let's go."

Exiting, he dumbly watched Sasuke lock the door behind them and start walking down the dim hallway. His legs twitched when he realized he should be following. Trailing behind and gazing at the other's back, his anxiety gave way to insecurity.

Minus… _that… _nothing seemed different. Was it supposed to be like this?

* * *

_Zero._

* * *

**Author's Notes: **_Thoughts, comments, opinions, feedback, rants?_


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